


There's a Thin Line Between True Friendship and True Love

by movetotherhythm



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A Lot of Death, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betrayal, Character Death, Coming Out, Dreams, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Gay Sex, Gen, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Self-Harm, post season two
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-16 01:56:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 49,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/movetotherhythm/pseuds/movetotherhythm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isaac's life has been tough. His family died, one by one, and his situation worsened as his life went on. Now, Isaac has too much to worry about with a pack of Alphas terrorizing the wolves of Beacon Hills and Erica and Boyd still being held captive. With the help of the rest of his pack, Isaac has to overcome the threat of the Alphas while coming to terms with his feelings for his best friend, Scott, and his hatred for his maybe-ex-girlfriend, Allison. Will be very lengthy, post season two. M for language, violence and sex.</p><p>DISCONTINUED</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Roaming the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprisingly, Isaac was cool with just being friends with Scott. The way he felt about him was much more of an emotional thing than a physical one so their friendship was enough for him to express this affection. The truth is, more than anything Isaac deeply cared about Scott and even though he wanted more of the friendship, he was content. He was content because he loved a boy who loved him back, even if it wasn't in exactly the way he wanted.

Roaming the streets alone at night had become somewhat of a trend for Isaac Lahey. Since being bitten by his alpha, Derek, he'd become much more instinctually nocturnal. Waking for school was a struggle and Isaac found his energy was sapped by the time it took to return home to the apartment that Derek had rented for them both. That's why he loved the summer; it meant he didn't have to fight the instincts and he could sleep whenever he wanted. It made life a whole lot easier for him. For twelve glorious weeks, he was free to rest for the 15 hours a day if he wanted and free to roam the night and howl at the moon if he so desired. Unless Derek called upon him to help with some werewolf shenanigans, which rarely happened once the issues with the Kanima and the Argents had been sort-of resolved.

There was a distinct breeze considering it was a late evening in June but Isaac didn't feel the need to wear anything thicker than a t-shirt and jeans. He'd learned to master partial changes so if he ever got cold, he could just wolf up some fur on his body. Some aspects of lycanthropy really are blessings in disguise.

Set against a background of thick shrubbery at the top of a hill, Isaac was hidden to anybody looking up to him. The sombre whistle of the dark trees was enough to prevent anybody from venturing up there and disturbing him. Before he became a werewolf, he would have been terrified himself. But with the powers came liberation from the fear that normal human beings has of the darkness and the unknown.

It was still fairly light out and Isaac could see the whole town spread out beneath him from the rock he sat on. He could see the police department building, the hospital, the school; all of the places in which the drama of the past few months had panned out. He looked down over it all like a godly observer scanning that which he created but no longer controlled. How could things have gotten so crazy? Just a year ago, he'd been a simple teenager, stressing about exams, worried about his love life, striving to improve at lacrosse: the usual. But now, everything had changed. For better or for worse, Isaac couldn't tell.

In the twelve months prior, Isaac had been regularly beaten by his father, become an orphan, been turned into a werewolf, fought against an unbelievably powerful Kanima and been shot and stabbed a few times for good measure. While all this was going on, he was struggling to keep on top of the finals he had to revise for.

Still, that was behind him. He'd passed (just) his finals and therefore passed the Grade. He'd become increasingly confident and outgoing and his father's death was made a lot easier to deal with by the family of werewolves that he'd walked into. Ironically, now he'd been left with no biological family, he actually had a group of people that made him feel like he belonged. Derek, Boyd, Erica, even Peter to an extent. They had become his family. And then Stiles, Lydia, Danny and Jackson had all been nothing but nice to him. Allison was evasive more than anything but that's probably to do with the arrow and blades that she'd put into Isaac's body. And then there was Scott…

Even in the cold wind, the thought of Scott was like a bucket of ice water to the face. The two boys had become close friends recently. As Isaac adjusted to his new life, Scott was constantly there propping him help and helping him. They'd saved each other's lives a few times each too and in a short space of time, they'd ended up fighting a lifetime's worth of battles together. It's probably only natural that along the way, Isaac fell for him.

He hadn't told anybody about the way that he felt about his friend because he didn't want to jeopardise the relationship that had become most precious to him in his new life. He'd become accustomed to seeing Scott around school every day and keeping his feelings to himself but as the semester went on, it became more and more difficult. With Isaac taking a few shifts at the veterinarian's to help out and Scott becoming ever more involved with Derek's pack, the two were almost always together and Isaac felt under constant pressure not to let anything slip. He allowed his eyes the odd wander or his imagination the odd thought but he did his best to keep his secret.

As far as he knew, it worked: Scott was none the wiser. Derek and Stiles had their suspicions, Isaac could tell by the way they looked at the pair of them when they were together, but neither had ever voiced such suspicions. He had no concerns about those two either; he doubted Derek or Stiles would say anything to anybody without his say-so first.

Surprisingly, Isaac was cool with just being friends with Scott. The way he felt about him was much more of an emotional thing than a physical one so their friendship was enough for him to express this affection. The truth is, more than anything Isaac deeply cared about Scott and even though he wanted more of the friendship, he was content. He was content because he loved a boy who loved him back, even if it wasn't in exactly the way he wanted.

Isaac sat on the rock against the line of trees and contemplated his life and the people in it. He was happy with how things were going and he thought that his summer was going to be the best of his memory. The best since his mom died anyway.

"Isaac?"

The sound of his name brought Isaac out of his reverie. He turned to see the silhouette of Scott McCall, his eye the only distinguishable feature of the shadowy mess that his body had become in the cover of the trees from the moonlight.

"What are you doing out here all alone?" he asked, stepping forward and letting his face fall into the line of light. Seeing that Scott was a little dazzled by the suddenly bright moonlight baring down onto him, Isaac allowed himself a quick glance up and down the other boy's body.

Scott was the perfect medium on a height scale, the perfect middle of the build scale. The skin he'd inherited from his Latin ancestors took on a silvery hue in the moonlight. His squinting brown eyes were frosted over; he would have looked high if his face was easier to see. The tips of his teeth looked sharp and wolf-like but the smile that held them back mollified any worries that Isaac had of Scott taking a sudden change.

"I like to sit out here. It's… therapeutic." Isaac said. He paused long enough to look like he was trying to find the correct word but not for so long that Scott would be made to feel uncomfortable by the intense eye contact they shared. "Care to join me, McCall?"

It always made Scott smile the slight lopsided grin that was McCall custom when Isaac called him by his surname. That's the main reason that Isaac went out of his way to call him by it as often as he could.

"I'd care for nothing more than I would care to join you," was Scott's reply, through the smile that Isaac so loved.

"Uh, McCall, I'm not sure that that made sense there," Isaac couldn't stop himself saying with a chuckle.

"Well, Lahey, sense is not to be made. Made is to be sensed."

Isaac grinned and patted the space on the rock next to him, motioning for Scott to take a seat in the space next to him. Although he did love this time alone, he loved spending time with Scott more. And gooey, angsty, hormonal teenage feelings aside, Isaac really loved his company. Scott took the space.

Isaac lifted his arm and draped it around Scott's shoulders. In turn, Scott moved in and rested his head on Isaac's brother. The two were completely affectionate of each other, perhaps in different ways but the affection was still there and plain to see.

The two boys stayed there silently for a while. The moon shone on the valley and life went by down in the town of Beacon Hills; unrecognisable people strolled along the sidewalk, couples walked their dogs, the lights of the houses went off as more and more people retired to bed for the night. But the two boys stayed motionless just watching the world go by. Isaac wished it would never end.

"Hey, can I ask you a question?" Scott asked in a half whisper after what could have been forty seconds or four hours. After a noise of assent from Isaac, he continued. "How come when decent people fall in the love, the person they care about most in the world doesn't seem to notice? And then we jump at the tiniest bit of affection they show us like some pathetic little nothing?"

Isaac was a little shocked by the question; it really wasn't anything like what he'd been expecting – or hoping. He'd expected something like 'why is the moon so bright' whilst hoping for something along the lines of 'hey follow me into the woods so we can have hot, passionate sex'. But he gathered himself and answered anyway.

"I guess, we just want something so much that we're happy to settle for a lot less than we want because it's better than settling for nothing." He didn't really have to think about it. He'd answered that question hundreds of times when he'd asked himself it.

Scott shrugged and sighed as he dropped his shoulders. He craned his neck back a little so that his head still rested on Isaac's shoulder but he could also see the taller boy's face.

"I guess so. You know, you can tell me anything right?" The question sounded like nothing more than that but it felt like an accusation, as if Scott knew that Isaac was keeping something from him.

"Of course I do, McCall. And you know that you can come and ask me weird questions and bitch about your life whenever you want, right?" Again, Isaac didn't have to think. The response just came out. He'd become so used to lying about his feelings to Scott that it was basically a reaction by this point.

Scott smiled almost sadly and looked away but – Isaac noticed as his heart-rate quickened – his head stayed on Isaac's shoulder.

"I do know that, I. And you know that I love you, right?"

If the shiver that ran down Isaac's spine at the sound of Scott calling him 'I' – an affectionate nickname that nobody but Scott used – went unnoticed, the sharp intake of breath that he breathed in at the words 'I love you' certainly didn't. But Scott didn't comment. He just looked curiously up into Isaac's eyes.

Isaac couldn't gather himself well enough to respond and judging by the way that Scott had closed his eyes, he didn't have to. The two boys sat there again in silence, Scott with his eyes closed and his head still on Isaac's shoulder, Isaac with his face turned up to the sky to hide the beetroot red colour that his cheeks remained.

It was a fairly long while before Isaac noticed Scott's heart-rate had slowed down past the point that said he was asleep. Gingerly, he moved position slightly and cradled Scott's head down from his shoulder to his lap so he was more comfortable. Absent-mindedly, he began to play with Scott's hair and smile as he thought about their last couple of months together. They'd built up a serious, trusting friendship and felt so comfortable with each other that they could go to sleep on the other's shoulder; a type of friendship that didn't come by very often for Isaac.

He thought to himself how much it would hurt to lose Scott and he made the decision not to tell him how he felt, at least not for the moment. His fingers were still running through Scott's hair as he fell back into a thoughtful reverie.

"I love you, too, Scott," he whispered into the wind.


	2. An Alpha's Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “First of all: ew,” Derek said with a shake of the head as if trying to banish a picture from his mind that he didn’t intend to think up. “And secondly, have you tried telling your… testosterone… to aim in a different direction? Because that’s a more logical idea than the idea of you getting with Scott McCall! Do you have any clue as to how dangerous that would be? For both of you as well as for me?”

It was dawn before Isaac walked back into the warmth and security of his shared apartment. He and Scott had spent most of the night together at the rock on the top of the hill.   
They’d slept, chatted, joked, laughed and generally enjoyed each other’s company. They went their separate ways a little before 5am and Isaac decided to take the long route back   
home so he had a little longer to think.

Upon his return to the apartment that he shared with his alpha, he headed straight to his bedroom to rest. There were no lights on and no signs of life in the open lounge area so   
he wasn’t challenged by anybody. He’d been tired out by the events of the night and he just wanted to fall into a deep, dreamy sleep in which he could be with Scott in the way he   
wanted and not just as a friend. 

However, when he pushed the heavy oak door of his bedroom open, the moonlight from the window illuminated two figures sat atop his bed. The sight made him start a little but   
he gathered himself and looked at the pair of werewolves. Derek and Peter Hale looked back at him. 

“Uh, may I ask what you’re both doing in my bedroom?” Isaac asked, already in the knowledge that he wouldn’t like anything that came out of Derek’s mouth.

“Planning a performance in the ancient, divine art of the River Dance, my dear boy,” Peter said in his soft, always mocking drawl. Come to think of it, Isaac wasn’t too keen on   
anything he said either. Glaring sideways at his uncle, Derek got to the point.

“We have some news on the alphas but you weren’t here to tell, so we waited for you,” was what he said. “You’ve been gone for hours, ever think to take your cell so I could get in   
touch with you?”

Isaac glanced over to the bedside cabinet, on top of which rested his cell phone. He felt a twinge of guilt that was replaced by a twinge of annoyance. Derek didn’t own him; he   
couldn’t just call on him whenever he felt like a chat. 

“I do believe, Derek, that a teenage boy roaming the streets alone in the middle of the night would have no desire for other people to have the ability to ‘get in touch’ with them, as   
you say,” chimed Peter. 

If dad were still alive, Isaac thought to himself, he would’ve thrown something at Peter by now.

“Peter,” Derek said in a tone that was both quiet and loud, “I suggest you keep your comments to yourself.” He turned to Isaac, his face still deadly serious. “Where were you? I was   
worried.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Peter asked, obviously unfazed by Derek’s threatening tone. Isaac really wasn’t in the mood for any more of Peter’s painfully unfunny jokes but he was even less   
in the mood to explain where he’d been for the night. He stayed quiet and waited for the older Hale’s inevitable comment.

“He was with the McCall boy.” 

If Isaac had been drinking or eating something at that moment, he would have spat it out in surprise. He went as red as he did just after Scott had said ‘I love you’ and this time,   
there was nowhere to turn to hide it. Peter’s smirk grew and clearly Derek sensed it because he lifted his arm and swung it backwards to connect with his uncle’s head. 

“Get out, now,” he growled. Peter stood up and left but not before turning to Isaac with a grin and flashing him a mockingly seductive wink. He pulled the oak door closed behind   
him with a snap and Isaac was left alone in the room with Derek. 

Neither spoke for a while. The morning was strangely quiet, devoid of the sounds of birds or insects beginning their daily struggle to survive, and the first rays of sunlight were   
beginning to touch the window of Isaac’s room. But it was still dark enough to make the silence seem menacing and Isaac felt more than a little uncomfortable.

“So,” Derek began, finally breaking the silence, “I assume that it’s true then.”

“Um, what do you assume is true?” Isaac asked sheepishly. He was fully in the knowledge of what was coming next. His sudden colour change at Peter’s remark had pretty much   
given him away.

“You have feelings for Scott.” Derek said simply. He left the statement hanging in the air – it was a statement; he fully well knew it was true. Isaac’s face, which had only just gone   
back to its normal pale-peach complexion darkened once again. 

“Err, yeah; is it that obvious?” Shifting his weight from one foot to the other and back again, Isaac determinedly tried to avoid the awkward eye contact with Derek. He could feel his   
alpha’s eyes upon him and felt more uncomfortable than he ever had in his life. But he gave in and wrenched his gaze upwards to meet Derek’s.

“Evidently so.” 

Isaac did his best to remain defiant and keep the eye contact while Derek surveyed him. The alpha had an odd look etched on his face; some combination of amusement, empathy   
and concern is the best way to describe it. Silence again stretched out between them as Derek waited for Isaac to break it. He didn’t, so Derek did it himself.

“Okay, you don’t seem to be very chatty this morning so I’ll begin. Scott McCall, really? Of all the people in the world that you could develop a hormonal teenage crush on and you   
go and choose Scott McCall?” The odd look on Derek’s face managed to present itself in the form of his vocal tone, too.

Isaac was surprised because he knew that Derek liked Scott and he also knew that Derek wouldn’t pick on somebody who wasn’t there. So he interpreted the question as less of a   
‘poor choice in people’ jibe and more as a ‘could you have possibly fell for somebody more dangerous?’ sort of thing, which is how Derek intended it.

“It’s not like I can help it, is it? I can’t just ask my balls to point the testosterone in a different direction.” When he heard himself say that out loud, his discomfort increased about   
sevenfold and, judging by the slight look of disgust that had inched on to his face, so had Derek’s. 

“First of all: ew,” Derek said with a shake of the head as if trying to banish a picture from his mind that he didn’t intend to think up. “And secondly, have you tried telling your…   
testosterone… to aim in a different direction? Because that’s a more logical idea than the idea of you getting with Scott McCall! Do you have any clue as to how dangerous that   
would be? For both of you as well as for me?”

In fairness to Isaac, he had considered that and had actively made the decision not to act on the way he felt about Scott so the way that Derek was talking to him at that moment   
was hitting a nerve. He felt like he was being patronized and not even with good reason. He bit his lip so as to stifle the response he wanted to give. 

“Isaac, whether something between you two ends up happening or not, if hunters or the alphas found out how you feel, they could manipulate you easily. You need to be careful, kiddo.” 

Isaac’s heart wrenched at the sound of the word ‘kiddo’. The last person to call him that was his mother, a week or so before she died. Some spasm of sadness must have flitted   
across Isaac’s eyes because Derek read his emotions like an open book. However, he must have misread the reason behind it because he carried on, as if winning the rather one-  
sided argument.

“It’s emotions like these that are going to get you killed. Control them. If Peter and I can read how you feel that easily then do you really think it’s going to take a pack of alphas   
very long to work it out?”

It was becoming increasingly difficult for Isaac to resist making a snappy comment; his alpha was beginning to irritate him on a level that normally only Peter could reach. Luckily,   
something changed in Derek’s facial expressions and his tone became much softer.

“Look Isaac,” he began in his most empathetic tone, “I care about you. You’re part of my pack and, more than that, you’re a good friend and a good person. I don’t want to see you   
get hurt and I think we all know that unrequited love is a bit of a bitch.”

Isaac could tell already that he wasn’t going to like where this conversation was going. Although it had to be better than the patronizing lecture that preceded it. 

“Scott is a good friend to you, right? And I know you probably don’t want to jeopardise anything between the two of you but I think you need to talk to him about it. You never   
know: something good might come out of it and if it doesn’t, at least you know where you stand.”

Isaac looked at his alpha incredulously. It sounded almost as if Derek was giving him permission to pursue this crazy fantasy. Did he think that there was some sort of   
possibility…?

No, Isaac thought, coming back to his senses, don’t even think about that. He didn’t want to get his hopes up any more than he wanted to sit and listen to Derek’s opinion on his   
“hormonal teenage crush” as he so nicely put it. 

“So what, you’ve spent the last few minutes warning me off McCall and now you’re telling me to go for it?” Isaac asked. “That’s helpful, really, thanks.” 

He didn’t mean to sound sarcastic or rude but it came out so. To be fair though, Derek was being a bit vague about his beliefs on the subject.

“I’m not saying that I think you should go for it. I’m saying that I think it would be a bad idea for you to keep all of your feelings bottled up. Just try talking to him; Scott isn’t the   
sort of guy who’s going to explode because you’re gay and I doubt he’s the sort of guy who’s going to push you away for having a little crush on him.”

“Hey Derek, thanks for the concern and all,” Isaac sighed, a look of resignation on his face. He knew that he wouldn’t be talking to Scott about his feelings any time soon. He wasn’t   
brave enough to risk the first true friend that he’d ever had. “But I really don’t think I’m going to talk to him.”

“Suit yourself then. But you have to let your feelings out somehow.” Derek stood up and stepped past Isaac. With a hand on the door handle, he turned back. “Sleep on it and we’ll   
talk about the alphas later. I’ll fill you in when you’re not on a sleep hangover.”

Isaac smiled to himself and kicked off his shoes. It was a pleasant change for Derek to do something nice for him for no reason. The sound of the door clicking open came from   
behind him as Derek spoke again.

“One last thing. If you do decide to talk to him, don’t wear that top.” He motioned the blue, plaid shirt that Isaac was wearing. “It’s a monstrosity and it’s not going to get you laid.”

With a half-smile, Derek disappeared from the room and pulled the great oak door closed behind him. Isaac was left alone with his thoughts and, sure enough, his mind soon   
wandered over to the thought of talking to Scott. Derek was right; he wasn’t the sort of person that was going to push him away for anything. But he was a dear friend and Isaac   
didn’t want to make anything awkward. He certainly didn’t want to make Scott think that he was only friends with him for an ulterior motive. But, for the first time in days, the idea   
of coming clean didn’t seem too terrible of an idea. 

Isaac pulled the blue, plaid shirt over his head and dropped it onto the floor. In three strides, he’d crossed the room and collapsed onto his large, double bed in just his jeans. He   
kicked them off and made himself comfortable; only half concentrating on what he was doing while the other half of him was concentrating on imagining a night with Scott. 

Perhaps telling Scott wasn’t a terrible idea. The risk of losing him seemed very low and it would probably make Isaac feel a lot better getting things off his chest too. And, Isaac   
allowed himself to think, just for a split second, if there is a chance that he’ll like me back, the reward is going to be so sweet. A broad smile appeared on his face as he reached   
into his boxer briefs and began to masturbate.


	3. Dreams and Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So that could take around three months to search them all, right? And there’s no guarantee that they’re in any of those, is there? And they still have Erica and Boyd. And we don’t know how many of them there are. And they’re integrated into the town so they could attack anyone at any time and still get away before we can track them?” He asked.
> 
> "You could work for the Internet Movie Database with perfect summaries like that, kiddo,” Peter remarked with his trademark smirk still etched upon his face. “You are correct.”

“Isaac…” Scott’s mouth caressed his name with his tongue, rolling it into his ear as a whisper. This warm breath hit Isaac’s ear drum and brought on a deep shiver. He felt Scott’s lips trail from his ear to his neck while a tongue danced its way along the surface of his skin towards his collar bones. 

Isaac let a contented sigh escape from his lips and Scott stopped fondling him to look up into his eyes. With a cheeky half smile on his face, Scott leant up to ignite a fiery kiss. This time Isaac’s noise of pleasure was stifled by a warm, wet tongue pushing its way inside of his mouth. He grinned into the kiss.

The two boys’ hands began to explore each other. Isaac’s fingers slid up and down the inside of Scott’s thighs who, in turn, was tracing invisible patterns into Isaac’s prominent pectoral muscles. 

The kiss between them grew more intense and they pressed their bodies more firmly into one another. Isaac shifted his weight so Scott fell onto his back and he manoeuvred on top of him. This time, it was Isaac’s turn to leave a trail of kisses on Scott’s torso. He, however, didn’t stop at his boyfriend’s clavicles. 

Letting his tongue hand out a little, Isaac slid down Scott’s muscular body and came to rest at the hem of his tight boxer briefs. His hands joined the attack and within seconds, the dark underwear lay abandoned and forgotten on the floor.

With one last look up into Scott’s lustful eyes, Isaac grinned his toothy lopsided grin. He dropped his chin and opened his mouth to allow Scott entry.

Isaac slipped suddenly into consciousness in the afternoon. He kept his eyes lightly shut but he couldn’t fall asleep again; the dream eluded him. It was just getting good as well, Isaac thought to himself with mild annoyance.

He glanced down at the part of his body that was exposed by the low riding bed covers. Dried flakes of semen were scattered on his torso from when he’d fallen asleep without cleaning up post ejaculation. Little bits of it were sticking hairs together in the thin trail underneath his belly button. He tried to pick it off but to no avail; the crusty remnants of his orgasm stayed firmly stuck.

Isaac lifted himself up off of the mattress and swung his feet down to the floor. He took a moment to consider whether he could force himself back into unconsciousness before sighing heavily and standing up. He reached up and leant backwards, overstretching until he heard a series of clicks coming from his spine in quick succession. He straightened up.

For the first time in days, Isaac felt genuinely refreshed. His watch told him that he’d been asleep for a little over ten hours, which was impressive compared to his normal tally of around seven. He slipped the watch off and dropped it onto his bed before making his way over to the hallway door. He opened it a crack and peeked out.

Although Derek had seen him naked a fair few times before, Isaac didn’t want to run into anybody in the hall. Just enough adolescent insecurity remained for him to feel totally uncomfortable with the idea of other people seeing him without clothes on. The fact that his stomach was caked in his own cum didn’t particularly help the feeling.

“Hey, Derek,” he said in nothing more than a normal voice – Derek had alpha hearing, Isaac could mutter something under his breath and he’d hear it from six floors down – and poked his whole head out of the doorway to see down the hall. “I’m going for a shower, you in the bathroom?”

“No,” came the instant reply from somewhere in the lounge/makeshift training area, “Peter and me are in here, go ahead.”

Isaac scuttled across the hall and into the tiny bathroom. He closed and locked the door with his right hand while he grabbed a fresh towel from the wall rack with his left. He pushed the window open a crack to let the steam out and the fresh air in before slipping behind the teal shower curtain and twisting the knob on the controls.

As a jet of hot water exploded onto his body, he threw the towel onto the railing above and melted into the shower. 

It seemed that every individual warm stream of water brought with it an individual warm thought about Scott. Various scenarios involving the two of them danced through Isaac’s head: an intimate date in a coffee shop, cuddles and a movie in the cold of winter, night time walks, conversations under the moonlight and hot, sweaty sex in the large bed in Scott’s bedroom. He smiled to himself at the thoughts. 

There was only a trickle of shower gel left in the bottle so Isaac was frugal with the portion that he allowed himself. The aroma of lavender and mint reached his nostrils as he lathered the cream all over his body. You know, for an antisocial werewolf lacking both friends and people skills, Derek had a very good taste in toiletries and home comforts. It was the sort of impeccable taste that you’d expect from someone expecting guests at any time of day. Maybe it was just the sense of smell that came with lycanthropy.

The shampoo that only Isaac used stood alone on a little plastic shelf. He went through bottles of it way too quickly but he never felt like holding back; his father had never let him have things that he defined as ‘luxuries’ as opposed to ‘necessities’. Shampoo was one of the luxuries Isaac was declined.

At the thought of his father, Isaac felt anger begin to build inside him so he gripped the shower head and clenched his teeth until the anger subsided. He thought of his friends and of his new life and soon enough, he managed to control the sudden burst of fury he felt towards his father. 

He watched the foamy water dripping off his body and falling into a swirl at the drainpipe. It became quite hypnotic as he looked for a distraction from his thoughts and as he cleared his mind of everything, a memory from a while back swam into his brain. 

He was stood at a pillar in a night club with Scott talking about the Kanima. Scott had handed him a syringe of ketamine and warned him to be careful. Isaac, never stopping to consider that anybody might care about his safety and wellbeing, just assumed that Scott had meant to be careful and not to hurt Jackson. But then he’d turned around and said “I don’t want you to get hurt.” It was the first time that Isaac realized how much this new family cared about him.

“Isaac,” Derek calling his name broke him from his daydream, “how long are you going to be in there? We need to talk.”

“Just a second, I’ll get out now.” He replied. He looked down into the drain and realized that the water was totally clear. He’d been stood there for so long that the shower and washed all of the shampoo and shower gel from him without him even realizing it. 

Isaac turned the shower off and stepped out, wrapping his lower body in the towel he’d grabbed earlier. It only took him a few seconds to dry his body and he was happy to let his hair dry naturally so it would fall into the natural curls that he preferred on himself. He opened the bathroom door and crossed the hall to his bedroom.

Five minutes later, he re-emerged wearing tight black jeans and a dark grey sweater. Isaac loved his neutrals. His most treasured possession, the silver watch that his brother bought him for his birthday a few months before his fatal deployment, hung a little loosely to his wrist.

Derek was throwing punches at a beanbag fastened onto the far side wall when Isaac entered the room. Hearing his footsteps, Derek turned and motioned for him to sit down on the couch. As Isaac did so, he took a hand towel and mopped the sweat from his back and sat down on the couch opposite, next to Peter.

“So,” Peter said, “you finally joined us. I thought you might have rendered yourself too exhausted with that bout of extremely loud, ahem, fiddling with yourself, last night.”  
Isaac’s ears turned pink but other than that, he showed no sign of embarrassment. Instead, he hurled back a retort.

“Have you made yourself a spyhole to my room then?” he asked the former Alpha with a mock serious face, “I’m not surprised if I’m honest, I imagine the last time you saw someone naked, I wasn’t born yet.”

Peter raised his eyebrows and smirked a little; he liked it when people lowered themselves to his level of childish ‘banter’ but Derek halted any chance of a battle of insults by clearing his throat. Surprisingly, he had the ghost of a smile on his face but the rest of his sullen appearance suggested that he meant business.

“As amusing as you both are, I’d love to just get this over with so I can get back to actively ignoring my undead uncle,” he said, addressing Isaac. He doesn’t seem to have stopped actively ignoring his undead uncle, Isaac thought to himself. Judging by the slightly widened smirk on Peter’s face, he was thinking something along the same lines.

“I’m going to come right out and say it, Isaac, there’s no point in beating around the bush here,” Derek said; he sounded a little exasperated or excited, possibly a combination of the two. “We have reason to believe that the Alpha Pack is somewhere in Beacon Hills. We knew that they were around here somewhere but until now we thought that they were a few miles into the forest. We were wrong.”

He broke off and looked out of the large window that took up nearly an entire wall. His feet followed his eyes and he came to stand in front of the glass. From the front, he would have looked like he was having a deep, philosophical debate inside his mind or tangling with an existential crisis. From the back, where Peter and Isaac sat, he looked like a silhouette. After a minute or so, it became clear that he was lost in thought, so Peter took over.

“In the past few days, we’ve gathered enough evidence to come to the conclusion that the pack is located within the town. We already suspected that they were within the district boundaries but now we’ve arrived at the idea that they might actually be in the town. As in, in a building, in the town, amongst citizens, possibly even holding down jobs or going to school.” He paused for dramatic effect – what an absolute drama queen, Isaac laughed in his head; at him, of course, not with him – when Derek turned back to face them.

“The point is, we were wrong. We’ve been looking in the wrong places. They could be anywhere in town,” he said with an uncharacteristic look of resignation on his face. What they were saying didn’t make sense; surely if the Alphas were in town then it would be easier to track them, wouldn’t it? Isaac asked if that would be the case. It was Peter who answered.

“The trouble is that we don’t know where they are. They could be in any abandoned building in the entire town. With a quick estimate that gives us a list of roughly 2,000 buildings. Add that to the list of possible hidey holes – your sewer systems, your underground lair, etcetera, etcetera – and you’re looking at roughly 5,000 and between the three of us we can search maybe 50 a night.”

Isaac fell back into the couch and took a deep breath. He did the quick mathematics in his head and thought about what Peter had just told him.

“So that could take around three months to search them all, right? And there’s no guarantee that they’re in any of those, is there? And they still have Erica and Boyd. And we don’t know how many of them there are. And they’re integrated into the town so they could attack anyone at any time and still get away before we can track them?” He asked. 

“You could work for the Internet Movie Database with perfect summaries like that, kiddo,” Peter remarked with his trademark smirk still etched upon his face. “You are correct.” 

“Isaac, we need to find Erica and Boyd.” Derek said. 

“I know, I know.” Isaac said back. “I just wish we didn’t.”

“They’re part of the pack.” Derek said simply as if there was no possible further argument. Of course it would be Peter that would prove him wrong.

“I don’t mean to be rude but if I remember correctly, they walked out on you the last time we saw them, right?” He said in a way that just projected how totally full of himself he  
was. 

“I don’t mean to be rude but you have thirty seconds to get out of my apartment or I am going to slit your throat,” came Derek’s surprisingly cool response. Needless to say, thirty seconds later, Peter was on the sidewalk outside of the building.

Isaac always felt more comfortable when he was left alone with Derek than when Peter was there with them. He felt like he had a connection with Derek; more than just an Alpha-Beta bond, they were friends. In contrast, his relationship with Peter was built purely on mutual dislike. 

This time though, Isaac wished that Peter had stayed because now that it was only he and Derek in the apartment, he knew exactly where the conversation was going to turn to: Scott. Sure enough, it didn’t take long for Derek to start asking questions.

“So have you thought any more about what you’re going to do about Scott?” he asked, almost the second Peter was out of earshot. 

“Yes, I’ve thought about it,” Isaac replied, “but I’m still no closer to deciding.”

“Well, I told you what I think. You should talk to him.” 

Isaac didn’t know if Derek was trying to be irritating or helpful but whichever he was trying to be, he was only managing one; and it wasn’t helpful. 

Isaac looked out of the window and down to the town below. The back of Scott’s house was visible from the apartment’s window and Isaac sometimes found himself looking over to it wondering what Scott was doing. Not today though; all he could think about at the sight of the house was whether he should tell Scott or not about his feelings. 

Isaac tried to block Derek out as he thought but his alpha’s voice continued to penetrate his thoughts. He kept getting fragments of what Derek was saying.  
“…nothing to lose at the end of the day…”  
“…something good could come out of it…”  
“…he’s better off with us; this could make him realize he should be with pack…”

At the last one, Isaac sighed and gave up trying to block Derek out. He turned back to his alpha and scowled. 

“Look, I don’t know what I’m going to do, okay?” He said annoyed. He hated giving Derek attitude but sometimes it was the only way to get him to leave him alone. “It’s my  
problem, not yours, so please just let me decide what the hell I’m going to do, yeah?”

Derek raised his eyebrows and shot Isaac a questioning look.

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” Isaac sighed, “I just don’t know what to do okay?”

“Well I’ve already told you what I think a few times. If I were you, I’d decide soon because I need you to do one more thing for me.” Derek said.

“Okay, what?” Isaac asked. He always got a little apprehensive when Derek asked him to do something. It was never something that he particularly wanted to do. 

“I need you to speak to Stiles and get information on deserted buildings that aren’t on the list Peter’s drawn up. I need to know as much as I can about the potential hideouts.” 

For once, it wasn’t a particularly bad task; maybe he could talk to Stiles about Scott. Maybe he could even ask Scott to help them get information…

“Isaac,” Derek said sharply, “I don’t want Scott involved in this.”

“What? Why?” Isaac was a little taken aback considering how well the Kanima situation had resolved itself when Scott and Derek had worked together. Okay, maybe that’s not the best example but they were a pretty good team, right? “Surely it would be better if we had as much help as we can get?”

Derek shifted in his seat a little uncomfortably and looked into Isaac’s eyes with a fixed stare. 

“He’s a teenage boy; I don’t want him getting hurt; Stiles breaking a bone or two wouldn’t be the worst thing, so by all means, hit him up. Seriously, hit him if you need to. Hard,” he said with a slight grin. Despite being viewed as painfully unfunny by everybody that knew him, Isaac had learned in a few weeks of living with him that Derek could show a sense of humour.

“I’ll speak to Stiles. And, if you really want me to, I’ll leave Scott out of it, okay? But just remember, I’m a teenager too, you know, Derek…”

Derek sighed and stood up. He walked over to the door into the hallway and pulled it open. He turned back to face Isaac, a hand running to the back of his neck to scratch his scar: something he did when saying something he didn’t particularly want to say. Isaac braced himself.

“As much as I like you, Isaac, you are my Beta. You willingly signed up for this. If I tell you to stand in front of a train for my own amusement, you do it. If I tell you to leap from a building, you do it. And if I tell you that I don’t want Scott McCall within a hundred metres of this Alpha pack, you do everything within your power to make sure that he stays away.”

With that, he walked out of the room and left Isaac alone. He felt a little hurt at the way that Derek had spoken to him and he thought it was totally unnecessary but Derek did have an odd way of showing affection. Isaac wasn’t so blind that he didn’t realize how much Derek cared for him. But he was right; he was the Alpha and Isaac was the Beta. Derek was in charge and clearly, he didn’t want Scott involved.

Isaac looked back out of the window facing the town. It was a beautiful place and Isaac had lived there his entire life. Kids played out in the streets as their parents looked on; families walked together to the shops or the park; elderly couples enjoyed the sun as the end of their lives drew nearer.

At night when the supernatural came out to play, the town had an eerie glow to it that made the whole place menacing. But during the day, there was nowhere on Earth that Isaac liked the look of more. Although, it’s not like he’d seen many other places; the only times he’d ventured out of the town since he was little were for lacrosse games at other schools. He’d never in his life left California. 

It looks tiny from up here, Isaac thought. Almost his entire life was in this town. His happy childhood with his mom, her death and how it broke him, his dad flipping and becoming abusive, having nothing but his brother Camden to console him, breaking down into tears when his brother left on deployment, breaking down again when he learned Camden would never be coming back. All of it, every good and bad thing, had happened within the boundaries of this town. And Isaac would be dead before he’d let anything happen to the people that lived within the boundaries with him.

He pulled himself out of his sad nostalgia and reached for his cell phone. A single tear fell down his cheek at the memories of his mother and brother as he keyed in a text message. 

Stiles; it’s Isaac. We need to meet up, it’s important. Let me know.


	4. Stiles' Assistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Leads you to wonder what Werewolf Britney's thinking about in his spare time…" Stiles said quietly. Deaton and Isaac shared a glance before looking at him. They both looked confused by something and it took Stiles more than a moment to realize the questioning looks were aimed at his pop culture reference.
> 
> "You know," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "Britney's career died and then suddenly she's the queen again. Peter literally died and now he's also the queen again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so with this one, I've uploaded the same amount of chapters to AO3 as I have fanfiction.net, so now it will be a weekly update every Monday until the fic is finished. Thank you very much for reading everybody!

Just after sunset, Stiles' Jeep pulled into the car park in front of the veterinarian building. Isaac stood with Dr Deaton just inside the open front door watching the vehicle slow to a stop. He was anxious to get this conversation over and done with so he could take a long walk in the moonlight alone but he didn't call out to Stiles or try to rush him. He just watched as his crush's best friend hopped out of the ancient car he drove and approached the door.

"Isaac, my dear furry friend, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Stiles said in his normal sarcastic voice. The sarcasm was so normal it was difficult for anybody that wasn't Scott or Lydia to tell whether Stiles was being sarcastic or not sometimes. This wasn't one of those times. He looked irritated.

"Derek wanted me to talk to you. It's important." Isaac said in response, hoping that the apparent contempt that Stiles held for Isaac's Alpha wouldn't cause disinterest.

"My idea of 'importance' differs to that of Derek Hale," Stiles laughed sincerely, which was a good start. "Let me guess: my favourite bloodthirsty werewolf wants to use my incomprehensible brains to better some not-very-elaborate scheme of his? Am I right or am I right?"

"You're pretty much right," Isaac said, "but I think you'll be interested in this."

That got Stiles' attention. He looked from Isaac to Dr Deaton who gave a shrug. With a sigh, he moved past the werewolf and the vet, and into the building.

The three of them made their way into the animal treatment room of the clinic and Isaac stood with his back to the window, facing both Deaton and Stiles. The two teenagers looked each other over; the vet surveyed the room absent-mindedly and coughed into a clenched fist.

"We're searching for an Alpha pack," Isaac blurted out. A look of surprise flashed across Stiles' face but Dr Deaton's face remained passive. He did look over to Isaac though, his desire to catch every word betraying the nonchalant attitude he wanted to show.

"An Alpha… pack?" Stiles seemed as confused as Isaac had the first time he'd heard the term. "Like a pack… of Alphas?"

"I believe that's what he means," Dr Deaton replied before Isaac had the chance. He turned to face Stiles. "Occasionally, Alphas pack together for a few reasons. For one, it makes them less of an individual target. For another more obvious one, it makes them a lot stronger. It's not unheard of." He paused for a moment before turning back to Isaac with a questioning tilt of his head. "However, it is extremely rare. Why would a pack of Alphas be in Beacon Hills?"

"No idea," Isaac conceded, "but they made their presence pretty clear by painting a sigil on Derek's door. I think it's something to do with him but he doesn't agree."

Dr Deaton thought that over for a moment and frowned. "A sigil? Ritualistic?"

"A ritual?" Stiles looked dumbstruck. He looked from Isaac to Deaton and back again. "You think they're doing a ritual? What kind of ritual?"

"We have no idea why. Could be a ritual, could be a common Alpha greeting. For all we know, it could be a way of an Alpha pack trying to break into the California art scene," Isaac said. "But, at the end of the day, it's going to be something bad. So we care more about 'where' and 'who' than 'why' right now."

Deaton and Stiles shared a look between them as if understanding was dawning on them.

"So, you want us to help?" Deaton asked at the same time that Stiles did.

Isaac nodded and reached into his pocket to draw out a piece of paper. He felt two sets of eyes follow his every twitch and he knew he had both Deaton and Stiles' complete attention. He unfolded the paper and handed it to the veterinarian.

"This is a list that Peter gave me," Isaac told him as he read it. "On it are a few buildings that Peter deems likely for the Alphas to be hiding in."

Deaton looked up, his smile looking pained.

"You realize that this list is missing around 4500 buildings right?" He asked.

"Yes. Apparently, despite having nothing important to do whatsoever, Peter doesn't have enough time to put together a list spanning more than a page," Isaac said in reply. He too was underwhelmed by Peter's workload when he'd first read the list.

"Leads you to wonder what Werewolf Britney's thinking about in his spare time…" Stiles said quietly. Deaton and Isaac shared a glance before looking at him. They both looked confused by something and it took Stiles more than a moment to realize the questioning looks were aimed at his pop culture reference.

"You know," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "Britney's career died and then suddenly she's the queen again. Peter literally died and now he's also the queen again."

Isaac smiled at that. Stiles warmed on him more and more by the day and making fun of Peter only made Isaac like him more. Deaton was less amused.

"Stiles has a point," he said. "It would be interesting to know what Peter's thinking about."

"Probably something evil," Stiles replied. "Knowing Peter, it's probably like Bowser level evil. He's probably trying to steal a princess as we speak." He mocked a gasp and threw a hand to his chest, feigning pain and shock. "Oh, the princess is in danger!" He exclaimed dramatically as he threw himself to the floor.

This time even Dr Deaton managed to muster up a smile.

"Stiles, do you take anything seriously?" He asked, his lips twitching a little more upwards with every word he said.

"Of course I do, my liege," Stiles replied with a seriously dramatized show of worship to the vet. "The safety of our princess comes second to nothing in my heart!"

Deaton shook his head and rolled his eyes. By this point however, Isaac was crying into his fist from repressing laughter. It took a lot for him to not break into a fit of giggles and snorting but he held back anyway. He had to get to the point here.

He took a few deep breaths after calming down and cleared his throat.

"Seriously though, we need your help," he said, looking at Stiles.

Stiles brought his hand up to his forehead in a military salute.

"At your service, sir, we are, sir," he said.

"I'm retired," Deaton said coolly. "Feel free to use the building but lock up when you're done."

Clearly, Deaton's curiosity had been satisfied. Isaac didn't try to stop him; it was Stiles that they wanted and Stiles that they needed. There wasn't really anything that the vet could do for them; clearly Deaton was aware of that. He stood up to collect his things.

"You have access to police files right?" Isaac asked Stiles, not patient enough to wait until the disruption of Deaton moving about was gone.

"Only what my dad has. What do you need it for?"

"Well, I was hoping you'd be able to get information on abandoned buildings in the area."

"No problem. I'll get as much as I can on as much as I can."

Isaac smiled at Stiles' co-operation. It was nice to feel like somebody was on his side as so often Isaac ended up feeling lonely in this sort of pre-battle warfare. He was about to say something when the bell above the front door sounded to show that Deaton was leaving. The door stayed open for a little while longer than normal but Isaac thought nothing of it. He was too busy trying – and failing – to stifle the topic he really wanted to talk to.

"Can I talk to you about Scott?" he blurted out. He reddened a little at Stiles' slight surprise but he didn't look away.

"Uh, sure man, go ahead," Stiles said. He looked a little unsure of himself and what was coming next but Isaac went ahead anyway.

"Don't judge me," Isaac said.

"I won't."

"Don't laugh at me," Isaac said.

"I won't."

"Don't give some sarcastic response," Isaac said.

"I… cannot commit to that, my friend," Stiles laughed. "I'll do my best, okay? What's on your mind, Jacob Black?"

"I think I have feelings for Scott." There, the band-aid was off. Nothing could take back the words now. Derek was one thing but Stiles was another: Scott's best friend. There was a good chance that he'd go and tell Scott but something stopped Isaac for even hesitating to trust him.

Isaac expected Stiles to be over dramatic and roll about the floor in shock or at least for him to be a little surprised. What he didn't expect was a raised eyebrow and no further reaction.

"Ah," Stiles said, "I knew it. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it."

Stiles fist pumped the air and grinned at the shell shocked look on Isaac's face.

"Lydia owes me $10 for that," he said with a grin.

"You- you bet about it?" Isaac was more than a little surprised. He had thought that he'd hidden his feelings well but so far, the two Hales and Stiles had all known before he'd said anything about it.

"Clearly it was a good idea, too," he laughed. "I don't think Scott knows though, if that's what you're worried about," he added hastily.

Isaac let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding onto.

"Good," he said, "Because I don't know if I want him to know yet. I'm definitely not telling him any time soon."

Stiles, still with a smile on his face, clapped a hand on Isaac's shoulder.

"Probably for the best there," he said, not unkindly, "honestly, I don't really think you're Scott's type."

"What do you think is his type?" Isaac asked a little teasingly. Stiles was cooler about the whole thing than he'd thought so he was fairly relaxed about it.

"Well, you know," Stiles said with a thoughtful expression plastered on his face, "he usually goes for people around 6'8, three hundred pounds, interested in politics, red hair and lip rings."

Isaac looked incredulous at how much of a blithering idiot Stiles could be at times.

"Female, Isaac," he said, "He likes females."

Isaac stuck out his bottom lip and pouted at Stiles. He fluttered his eyelashes and did his best to make himself look like an upset puppy. (Which, just for the record, Isaac Lahey is exceptionally good at, he'll have you know.) He held the face for a few seconds before Stiles let out a chuckle and fell back into his normal expression.

"I know that, you ass," Isaac said, shaking his head, "he could always like guys too, though," he added in an undertone. Stiles must have heard because his face grew more sympathetic. Before he could say anything, Isaac cut him off.

"Look, I know there's not much chance of anything happening but I like the guy; sue me," he said quickly, not pausing for breath so Stiles could interject. "He's the first person to be nice to me for no reason in a very long time and I don't know why but I'm kinda pulled towards that. It's not like he'd drop me as a friend if he found out." He took a deep breath. "Would he?"

"No, of course not, he isn't a dick," Stiles said. "It's just that if he does find out, it might be awkward. I don't know. Look, man, I need to go home. I'll look for details on those buildings like you said. If you wanna talk, drop me a message or something, yeah?"

"Yeah, thanks, Stiles; it means a lot."

Stiles half smiled and walked out of the room. Isaac couldn't blame him for wanting to leave and avoid the emotional train wreck that was Isaac Lahey. He sighed and went about the room closing windows and turning off the plugs that didn't have black stickers on them (Scott showed him that when Isaac volunteered to help him one night, the black stickered sockets stayed on all the time).

When he was done, he picked up the keys and turned to doorway to the annex of the vet's practice. He started when he saw a person stood in the doorway.

"I think we need to talk, Isaac," Scott said.


	5. Worries and Warnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All he could see was the door in which Scott was about to use to leave his life for good. And then Isaac would have nobody.
> 
>  
> 
> "And the Nobel Prize for most Egomaniacal Werewolf Zombie in the United States of America goes to…" Isaac created the sound of a drumroll by tapping his hands quickly against the wooden railing that ran along the corridor. "The 'indispensable' but universally disliked, Peter Hale!"
> 
> "I like you, kid, you're witty," Peter said, the usual sarcastic and mocking demeanour suddenly gone. "I'm going to give you some advice."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the previous chapter in terms of setting and time period.

The colour in Isaac's cheeks deserted him when he saw Scott. Although he was normally a fairly pale colour anyway, the shade of white that he turned was a shade normally reserved for the moon in the night sky.

"Scott, w-what," Isaac's voice caught as his heartbeat pounded in his throat, making it difficult to talk. "What are you doing here?"

"I think what you should really be asking," Scott replied coolly, "is how long I've been here for."

Isaac stared at him. Surely he hadn't heard everything. Scott wasn't the sort of person who listened into conversations; he must have just gotten there. For about ten seconds, Isaac tried to convince himself that everything was okay and that Scott didn't hear anything. He was beginning to believe himself when Scott must have realized that he wasn't going to speak again very soon. So Scott broke the silence.

"In answer to your question, I was here to pick up the jacket I left on my last shift," he said. "And in answer to the question you should have asked, I've been here for long enough to hear everything you said to Stiles."

A very strange sensation gripped Isaac at that point; it was as if his heart had jumped from its already very high position in his throat to the back of his mouth at the exact same time that his stomach dropped to the floor. That combined with the feeling of being punched in the chest and his legs suddenly losing stability and going jelly-like, Isaac ended up gripping the table behind him to hold him up. He looked at the floor in embarrassment.

"You heard ev- everything?" He managed to stammer despite having the wind knocked out of him by some invisible force brought on by Scott's revelation.

"Yeah, everything," Scott said, still very coolly for someone who just overheard one of their best friends proclaiming their love for him. "Right from when you asked to talk to Stiles about me."

A spasm of anger flashed across the embarrassment on Isaac's face. He looked up and a little colour flooded back to his cheeks.

"So you were eavesdropping deliberately then?" He demanded of Scott. "Even though, I imagine, you knew how fucking humiliating this part would be?"

"I know I shouldn't have done it," Scott replied, still infuriatingly calmly, "but I heard you talking about me and I couldn't resist. I'm sorry."

Although the apology sounded sincere and nothing about Scott's body language or heartbeat said otherwise, Isaac found himself becoming angrier and angrier by the second. By the time he spoke again, he was beginning to lose control.

"You can't just do that!" he shouted, causing Scott to start a little. "What the fuck do you think gives you the right to eavesdrop on me?"

Scott took a step back and looked down, suddenly sheepish. He was silent for a while and Isaac said nothing. Instead he tried to control the anger seething through him. Looking at Scott's resigned figure helped a little. He felt himself calming down and he closed his eyes to focus better. When he opened them, Scott was looking at him again.

"You like me?"

Isaac was a little taken aback by that. Now it was his turn to be the sheepish one. He nodded.

"I knew you were gay," Scott said, running a hand down his face as if he was tired, "but I never thought you liked me."

This time Isaac was more than a little taken aback. He was shocked.

"What do you mean you knew I'm gay, you couldn't have known, I didn't tell anyone, only Derek and Stiles knew." He tried to say everything at once but eventually ran out of breath. He was still panicky that they'd strayed onto such an uncomfortable topic. But Scott just smiled his sweet lopsided smile.

"I didn't know," Scott said, "I guessed. But now I do know." He grinned at his own genius and he looked terribly pleased with himself. "I don't think anybody else knows though," he added, as if suddenly realizing that that was what Isaac was worried about. "Lydia and Allison always talk about trying to get you a girlfriend."

Isaac smiled a little at that. His heartbeat had slowed and he felt a lot more in control now. He was still angry with Scott for eavesdropping but he realized that he would have done the same in his position.

Also, Isaac had imagined how this conversation would go many times but never did he dare to imagine that it could possibly go as well as it was going. Scott hadn't ran away or been totally freaked out. He just looked curious and slightly apologetic.

"Isaac, I've got to ask," Scott said. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

Isaac's first thought was to just come right out and say something along the lines of "because I thought you'd hate me and run away" but he decided against it. He didn't want Scott thinking that Isaac had a low opinion of him.

Instead, he took his time, trying to construct an answer that was both inoffensive and true. It was more difficult that Isaac would have thought.

Eventually, he came up with a truthful reason that wouldn't risk offending or upsetting Scott.

"Because," he said slowly, "after everything I've been through, I couldn't face the possibility of losing the most important person in my life."

Scott opened his mouth and then closed it again. His ears and cheeks had gone a little pink and the sides of his lips had twitched upwards into an embarrassed smile.

"What do you mean 'the most important person in your life'?" Scott said and Isaac could clearly hear the exasperation in his voice. His face suddenly changed as if realization had struck him and the enormity of Isaac's feelings for him had just been made clear to him. "I'm the most important person in your life?"

"I don't just like you, Scott," Isaac said, looking straight into the other boy's eyes. He was treading on thin ice by now but with each step he took, he became more and more convinced that the ice was going to hold. "I need you. You cared about me when nobody else did even though you had no reason to. You've always tried to protect me and you have my best interests at heart. Do you know how rare that is for me to find?"

Scott said nothing.

"Do you remember that day at the rave when we tried to take Jackson down?" Isaac continued. "You gave me a syringe and told me to be careful because you didn't want me to get hurt. The last time somebody cared about my well-being enough to actually tell me to be careful, my brother was still alive and that was nearly five years ago."

Again, Scott said nothing. But Isaac noticed that a misty veil of sadness had clouded the expressions on his face.

"Everything I've been through since turning, you've been there, whether I realized at the time or not," Isaac continued again. "As pathetic as it sounds, you've been my rock and my anchor. Without you, I'd probably be dead or worse: a mindless werewolf vandal with no morals and no control. You accepted me into your life with no questions even though if I had the chance to kill you in that ice rink ages back, I would have taken it without considering."

For a third time, Scott remained quiet.

"You are the most important person in my life by far and I didn't tell you about how I felt because I thought there's no way that you'd feel the same and I couldn't face risking everything I have with you for nothing," he finished and dropped his gaze away from Scott and to the floor. He felt like crying there on the spot.

Scott was still in a state of stunned silence. Isaac tried to bring himself to look at him. At any moment, Scott could have left. Or even worse, he could have reacted with pity. But when Isaac did look up to meet his eyes, Scott did neither. Instead, he just stayed looking as stunned as before.

"I didn't know you felt that way," he said in an odd croaky voice. It took a few seconds for Isaac to realize that Scott was trying hard to hold back tears.

"Scott, are you alright?" he asked. It felt a little odd for Isaac to be asking somebody else if they were okay for once. Normally it was Scott checking up on him or strangers on the streets asking but not actually caring before they disappeared out of his life.

"I'm fine," Scott replied. He looked up and let out a wide gorgeous grin that was so infectious, Isaac found himself reflecting it. "I just didn't know how much I meant to you."

The conversation was going so well that Isaac felt confidence creep into his system at the same time that the ability to stand unaided returned to him. He straightened up and took a couple of steps towards the doorway where Scott stood so that the two of them were closer together. Scott didn't move back so Isaac took that for a good sign.

"Scott, you mean the world to me," Isaac said simply.

"Do you remember what you said to me the other day, when I found you at the top of the valley?" Scott asked. It seemed like an odd question but Isaac could tell by the look on his face that it had meaning.

"What did I say?"

"I asked you why good people fall for people who don't notice them and you replied 'we just want something so much that we're happy to settle for a lot less than what we want because it's better than settling for nothing'. You were talking about yourself, weren't you?"

Isaac smiled sadly and nodded again for what felt like the millionth time that night.

"It's how I feel about you," he said quietly.

"Isaac, come here," Scott said softly, opening his arms and reaching for Isaac, who shuffled forward into the arms of his friend and wrapped his own around the short boy's body. He dropped his head onto Scott's shoulder and faced away from him as Scott lightly patted his back.

It was an affectionate gesture, a friendly gesture, a platonic gesture, nothing more than that, Isaac assured himself. But when they broke apart, Scott seemed to linger and looked as if he was about to say something but then he decided better of it.

"Isaac, I don't know how I feel," he then settled on. "Do you think you could give me some time to think about all of this?"

Here it comes, Isaac thought, his heart sinking. Perhaps he'd foolishly fallen into a false sense of security and Scott was still going to walk out of his life. Now for the moment we've all been waiting for, ladies and gentlemen.

Isaac nodded and resigned himself to being alone forever. Scott caught his eye with an intensity that eye contact never usually held. In that split second, Isaac was convinced that one of three things was going to happen:

One; Scott was going to turn backwards and walk out of the veterinarian's and go home. He'd think over what Isaac had said and decide that things would be too awkward between them to be friends.

Two; Scott was going to turn backwards and walk out of the veterinarian's and go home. He'd think over what Isaac had said and decide that things could still work out in their platonic relationship and that they could get over the awkwardness if Isaac could only suppress his romantic feelings for Scott.

Or Three: Scott was going to turn backwards and walk out of the veterinarian's and go home. He wouldn't think over what Isaac had said because he'd already decided that he'd never want to see or talk to Isaac again.

Isaac had had 'friends' before that had beaten him up for lesser things than him having a crush on them. One of them, Billy Newman, had beaten Isaac so badly in the fourth grade that he was hospitalized. That was because Isaac refused to let him borrow his baseball glove. Another, Tyson Welton, had kicked him so hard in the shins that Isaac had been bound to crutches for summer vacation in the year of the sixth grade.

Of course, none of these 'friends' had ever compared to Scott McCall. But at this point, how well the initial conversation had gone didn't matter to Isaac. All he could see was the door in which Scott was about to use to leave his life for good. And then Isaac would have nobody.

It was when Isaac was thinking about these possibilities and deciding which one was the most likely to actually happen (option two he figured, although one and three could never be ruled out) when he realized that Scott was saying something but he was too busy worrying to catch what was said. Isaac gathered himself and was about to ask what he'd missed the other boy saying when Scott did something completely unexpected.

Scott leant forward, lifted his chin and pressed his lips firmly into Isaac's.

Isaac started and almost pulled away before he realized how monumentally stupid an idea that would be so instead he lifted a hand to hold the back of Scott's neck and grinned into his lips. Scott reacted by smiling the faintest of smiles, the sort of smile that couldn't be seen by an eye fixed on it but that could be felt by a mouth pressed against it.

The kiss felt like it last for both a second and a lifetime. Scott tasted like a combination of the spearmint of his toothpaste and the cinnamon dust of his coffee.

The kiss wasn't exactly a porno starter but it was no playground peck either. No tongues were used and there was no bodily thrashing. But there was an underlying passion to the kiss, a deep ingrained mutual love in the contact that gave Isaac an overwhelming sense of security while his lips were locked with Scott's.

And then Scott pulled away. One of his arms had absent-mindedly made its way up to Isaac's neck and draped it around his shoulders. He looked a little shell shocked at what he'd just done but then he smiled his trademark lopsided grin and looked at Isaac with those gorgeous brown eyes of his.

"I just need a little bit of time, okay?" Scott said. "I hope that makes me worth waiting for."

And then with a wink he was gone. The bell on the door sounded and Isaac was left alone with nothing but the keys to the veterinarian's and the taste of cinnamon on his lips.

Jesus Christ, Isaac thought, I fucking love cinnamon.

Isaac closed up the veterinarian's with the keys that Deaton had left. Apparently he had about fifty sets of them because Isaac knew that Scott, Stiles, a few clients and even, for some reason, the school guidance counsellor had a set of keys.

The walk home was lost to Isaac in a daze of happiness. He found himself at the front door of the apartment building in which he lived with Derek before he'd even starting paying attention to the journey.

The ascent to Derek's apartment was no less clouded by euphoria. It was when he reached the front door of the apartment that he came back down to Earth. The sight that brought him back was a sickeningly smug grin on the face of Peter Hale.

"I smell Scott on you," he drawled in his lazy voice. "Do you never tire of being so woefully predictable?"

"Do you ever tire of being hated?" Isaac hit back, still too happy to really care about what Peter was saying.

"I'll take that as a 'no'," Peter chuckled to himself. "And in response to your question: being liked is unnecessary, being indispensable, however, is something I shall never tire of."

"And the Nobel Prize for most Egomaniacal Werewolf Zombie in the United States of America goes to…" Isaac created the sound of a drumroll by tapping his hands quickly against the wooden railing that ran along the corridor. "The 'indispensable' but universally disliked, Peter Hale!"

"I like you, kid, you're witty," Peter said, the usual sarcastic and mocking demeanour suddenly gone. "I'm going to give you some advice."

Isaac's immediate thought was to smash another witty retort out of the park but something about the way Peter spoke was invoking curiosity. He remained silent.

"Have you ever heard the proverb 'when the going gets tough, the tough get going'?" Peter asked. When Isaac nodded, he continued. "Well there's been a lot of dispute over what that means. Some say that it means that when times get hard, only the strongest fight through to prevail. Others say that it means when times get hard only the strongest are wise enough to pull out and avoid decimation."

"And what do you say?" Isaac asked, surprised at his own curiosity. After living with Peter almost constantly in his apartment, he'd learned to figure out what the older Hale was getting to fairly quickly. Where Peter was going with this, though, was a mystery to Isaac.

"That argument has been debated since well before either of our lifetimes and yet ultimately, they end up at the same result, don't they?" Peter said thoughtfully. His eyes surveyed the wall and craned his neck and it was clear to Isaac that he was listening for the others. When satisfied, Peter fixed Isaac with a stare that rivalled the intensity that Scott's had had earlier. His voice was no more than a low whisper. "I say that when the going gets tough, the tough drag the weak in to fight their battles for them and if you're unlucky enough to fit into that weak artillery front line then everyone you love will die. My advice to you is that when the going gets tough, get going."

When Peter pulled back, the smug grin was back on his face.

"If I were you I'd take a shower, you smell like McCall's cheap cologne."

With that he was off down the corridor towards the lift that would take him the three floors up to his own tiny apartment. Isaac stared after him until the sound of the elevator ping resonated through his eardrums.

The apartment was deathly silent when Isaac entered and with a slight pause, he crooked his ear to listen. Derek's slow heartbeat told him that the Alpha was fast asleep. Knowing that Derek was a very light sleeper, Isaac still crept through the apartment to his own bedroom. He closed the door behind him and quickly undressed.

Lying on his bed about five minutes later, Isaac reflected on what Peter had told him. Was 'told' the correct word? It had seemed like more of a warning than a statement. Isaac couldn't keep his mind on it though; the memory of the warmth that he and Scott had shared kept invading his trails of thoughts. Eventually he just gave in and reached his hand down to his crotch.

He thought of the moment in which he and Scott had shared such an intense eye contact and how convinced he'd been that the scenario was going to go in one of three ways. The longer Isaac lay there playing with himself and thinking of Scott, the more he realized there was always a fourth option:

Four: Scott was going to turn backwards and walk out of the veterinarian's and go home. He'd think over what Isaac had said and decide that actually it was worth a shot. The thought of how possible it really was made Isaac shiver. His mind turned back to the memory of the kiss and he smiled.

Isaac was becoming somewhat of a chronic masturbator but he would have taken heart in the knowledge that a few miles away at the exact same time, there was another teen wolf pleasuring himself to the exact same memory.


	6. Exes and Exasperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surely she'll be spending too much time trying to kill us to be any actual help?
> 
>  
> 
> Scott’s eyes flickered and Isaac could have sworn he detected a hint of hurt in them before they reverted back to their neutral warmth.
> 
> “I’m sorry, I needed time.”
> 
> “Yeah, well I needed you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a filler I suppose. I just wanted to introduce Isaac's anger towards Allison because it's going to become a pivotal part in the storyline. Thanks for reading!

The growling was very loud by the time that Isaac came around and heard it. The banging on his door that accompanied the animal-like noises was aggressive and for a split second, Isaac thought he was back with his father and the beatings were about to begin. But then Derek barked a command through the solid oak.

"Get up now."

Groaning, Isaac rolled over and fell off the bed. Werewolf reflexes or not, he'd just woken up and the floor had come to meet his face before he could even think about trying to break the fall.

"Mother fucker," he growled at the carpet underneath him.

Isaac stood up and stretched out as far as he could. The screeching sound that he made wasn't human – but then again, neither was he.

A dark grey gown lay on the floor and he picked it up and draped himself in it. Barefoot, he pulled open the door and dragged his still only semi-conscious body out of his bedroom and down the hall.

"Derek why am I up at such an ungodly hour," Isaac moaned as he slouched towards the living room/training area that had become more of an evil plan strategy room as of late. "I need my beauty s-"

He stopped dead when he reached the living room.

Seven pairs of eyes looked up at him: Derek and Peter Hale, obviously. They were unsurprising. Jackson Whittemore was the third person that Isaac expected to be there. However, the appearance of Lydia Martin and Stiles Stilinski took him by surprise. Seeing Scott McCall – who by the way hadn't spoken to him or even contacted him since that fateful night in the veterinarian's building four nights previous – was like a punch in the stomach.

But it was the last person that really shocked, and angered, Isaac. Standing there in the room, glaring at everybody around her and looking like the only thing that was stopping her from attacking the werewolves across the table from her was the strong hand of her "ex-boyfriend" was none other than Allison Argent.

The Allison Argent that had sliced Isaac's back open with her infernal martial arts knives. The same Allison Argent that seemed to have a personal vendetta against Derek Hale and his entire pack (including Isaac himself) was stood in the pack house's living room as bold as daylight.

Everybody in the room was looking at Isaac stood there in his flimsy morning gown. The hemline of it only rested a couple of inches below his manhood and he caught himself unconsciously pulling it as far down as it would go. Derek, Jackson and Peter looked passive – they'd grown accustomed to seeing Isaac almost naked. Stiles and Lydia exchanged a glance as if they were mutually agreeing that they'd both hop on that at the first opportunity. Scott went a little pink and averted his eyes. But Allison smirked.

"What the fuck," Isaac almost shouted, his anger at finding Allison Argent in his home overwhelming his embarrassment of being caught in his morning gown, "is she doing here?"

The word she he spat out like… like he'd spat out the blood that her damn blades had caused him to cough up. Obviously Derek could sense or perhaps smell the extent of Isaac's rage because he moved in between him and Allison.

"She's here to help with the search," Derek said in a cold tone that exuded a clear message. I don't want her here either, it said. But that didn't make Isaac' feel any better about it. If anything, it made him angrier.

"Derek are you forgetting that she tried to fucking kill us?" He was shouting at this point, his voice rising higher in tone and louder in volume with every passing syllable. "And you're happy to let her in here without fucking question?"

"We need the all the help we can get on this, we're getting nowhere," Derek said. His voice was dangerously low; if Isaac wasn't so furious, he would have been fairly intimidated. The low tone was the only thing worse than Derek's alpha roar. It reminded Isaac of the crackle of a fire. Or it would have if he wasn't being absorbed by a fire of his own.

"Will she even have time to search?" Isaac shouted. By this point the people in the room with werewolf hearing were visibly suffering. At every syllable, Scott scrunched his face a little and Peter looked like he was suffering from a mild headache. Derek's face, however, remained like thunder. "Surely she'll be spending too much time trying to kill us to be any actual help?"

Derek didn't respond to that. Isaac didn't know whether it was because part of the Alpha agreed with him or whether it was because the Alpha was getting ready to lunge at him. Either way, it gave him a brief respite from Derek's low growl.

From behind the Alpha, Peter made a gesture. He pointed upwards in a simple gesture. Go up to my apartment, the gesture told him, cool off, kiddo.

Isaac took a deep breath to try and cool himself down but it didn't work so instead he gripped the closest thing as tightly as he could; a plastic dinner plate that sat on the worktop beside him.

"Maybe I should have killed you," Allison said quietly, although loud enough for a room half full of werewolves to hear her perfectly, "I haven't got time to listen to such a whiny little bitch."

Isaac's reaction was instantaneous. Before the six figures around the table had turned to look at Allison with various emotions – shock in Lydia's and Stiles' case, amusement in Peter's, mild surprise in Jackson's, anger in Scott's and undeniable, cold, hard fury in Derek's – the plastic dinner plate had already left Isaac's hand.

The sound of her voice tipped him over the edge; waiting to listen to what she had to say wasn't even possible for Isaac. He just picked up the plate and sort of frisbeed it as hard as he could at Allison's head.

It hit her in the lower jaw, just above her chin and her hand shot up to cradle the blow. A little harder and Isaac probably would have snapped the bone. But he didn't want to really hurt her. Only fairly hurt her. It was the humiliation that he could smell on her in the few seconds afterwards that he really loved.

Before Allison could do anything in response though, Isaac turned on his heel.

"Fuck this," he shouted, loudly enough to be heard by any non-werewolf within two floors of them, as he stormed out of the apartment.

Isaac would have been embarrassed by how high his gown was riding and the several inches of his arse that were on show to the group as he left but he was too busy revelling in Allison's embarrassment to care.

The door slammed closed behind him and his anger festered inside him for the entire journey to Peter's apartment four floors up.

After an hour of solitude, the front door to the tiny apartment opened. Isaac's mood was still no better.

He didn't even bother turning around to see who was there. Scott and Peter's scents gave them both away.

"What the fuck was that about?" Scott asked. To his credit, he didn't sound very angry, more solemn than anything else. Too right he should be fucking solemn, Isaac thought; it must have been him that brought her along.

"I assumed that it was fairly clear," Peter said before Isaac could reply, his face contorted into a sickening smirk. "This fine little puppy here lost his cool when he saw his boyfriend and his boyfriend's ex-girlfriend holding hands."

Scott went red and Isaac glared.

"What are you even doing here?" Isaac demanded hotly.

"As I recall," Peter replied with his smirk widening with every waking moment, "I live here. And I suggested that you come up here to cool off a bit."

He looked over Isaac, who by the point was visibly shaking with fury.

"Not that it seems to have worked," he added.

It took all of the restraint that Isaac could muster to stop himself from lunging at Peter. Instead he turned to Scott.

"You brought her?" The answer was obvious; as was the rage underlying the question.

"Yes, I had to," Scott said, cowering a little and donning the sheepish look that he'd mastered in the vets. "She wants to help find Erica and Boyd. And so do I."

"The last time she saw Erica and Boyd, she attacked them," Isaac argued. "Why would she want to help them now?"

"Isaac," Scott said softly, still looking sheepish but sudden realization had changed his intensity. "This isn't about Erica and Boyd, is it?"

The question didn't surprise Isaac and he answered without missing a beat.

"Of course it's not about Erica and Boyd. What a stupid fucking question." He was astonished that it had taken Scott this long. He'd even had a forty five minute meeting to think about what he'd done wrong. Isaac turned to Peter.

"Could you give us a moment?" Isaac asked. To anyone else, Peter would probably have flicked them the V and told them that they couldn't kick him out of his own home and coupled the rejection with some remark but the two had built a mutual respect in the past few days so the former alpha nodded and left.

Once he was gone and, he judged by the sound of the elevator leaving the floor, out of earshot, Isaac rounded back on the other teen.

"You really thought bringing her here would be a good idea?" he demanded of Scott. "You know how I feel about her. You know how I feel about you and yet you still swan in here with her hand in yours, even after the other night."

He decided not to mention the fact that Scott hadn't spoken to him since that night; he figured if Scott was happy to bring his ex-girlfriend to Isaac's home then he probably wouldn't like what Scott would have to say in response to Isaac's annoyance at four days of silence.

"No, I didn't think it was a good idea," Scott said, his pathetic cowering a thing of the past. "I had to. She wants to help."

"But did you have to hold her hand and act as if everything's all beautiful and roses between the two of you?"

Scott said nothing. He just looked at Isaac.

"You two looked so cosy together; bless you. Forgive me if I don't come to the wedding."

Again, Scott said nothing. He just looked at Isaac. Realization struck Isaac at that point.

"You're back together, aren't you?" he asked, dumbfounded. After everything that had happened and Scott would just go back to her? It sounded stupid to Isaac, even in his own mind.

"No, we're…" Scott let out the greatest sigh that Isaac had ever heard. "I don't know what we are."

"I don't know what we are, either," he added, gesturing at himself and Isaac.

"Maybe you would if you'd spoken to me in the last four days," Isaac said bluntly.

Scott's eyes flickered and Isaac could have sworn he detected a hint of hurt in them before they reverted back to their neutral warmth.

"I'm sorry, I needed time."

"Yeah, well I needed you."

Scott went quiet. So did Isaac. They stood apart with a space of a few metres in between them. Isaac broke the silence.

"Why did you kiss me?"

"What?"

"It's an easy question. Why did you kiss me?"

"I wanted to."

Isaac sighed. The anger had pretty much left him entirely and he'd been left with a feeling that he couldn't really place. It was a little like resignation. What he was resigning himself to though, Isaac didn't know.

"Maybe you shouldn't have kissed me."

"You seemed into it at the time."

Isaac's anger made a brief return there.

"Of course I was into it at the time," he said angrily. "But if you had told me then that you were going to totally ignore me and then fuck me around like this, I wouldn't have bothered enjoying myself; I would have just floored you."

"So you'd 'floor' me, would you?" Scott asked, his normally placid tone suddenly flaring with anger. "I'd love to see you try it."

Itching to throw a punch but knowing that it would cause much more harm than good, Isaac looked away. Again, silence stretched out between them.

"Look," Scott said, his voice tentative with the anger of a few moments past all but gone. "I know I fucked up. I shouldn't have kissed you when I didn't know what I was going to do next. I know I shouldn't have done that but I couldn't resist, okay?"

As much as he wanted to believe it, Isaac couldn't.

"You're one of the most controlled people I've ever met, Scott," he said truthfully. "You could have resisted anything."

"Not that."

For the third time, silence stretched between them. The quiet before had seemed awkward and empty but this one seemed to be filled with unanswered questions. It stretched for the longest time and it seemed to stretch indefinitely.

"Forgive me?" Scott asked out of the blue.

"Why should I?" Isaac answered the question with a question.

Scott stopped to consider. For a few moments, he looked like he was about to say something but then he turned and walked to the door. He opened it and walked out of Peter's apartment but he hesitated before closing the door.

"I might be a dick sometimes," he said slowly and deliberately, as if treating each individual word with care and precise consideration. "I might fuck you over. I might cause you serious hurt sometimes, I don't know. But what I do know is that even though I'm unsure of how I feel right now and I'm unsure of what I want, I know that I love you fiercely. That might only be friendship, it might be more; I don't know yet. But I do love you."

The door clicked shut behind him and Isaac was left alone.

Ugh what a fucking douche, he thought to himself. I shouldn't forgive him. He's fucked me around and judging by what he says about it, he knew he was doing it too.

But you care about him, a second voice in his mind said. There's no way that you'd push him out of your life.

He was a fucking dick and he doesn't deserve you.

He's an unsure teenage boy who kissed before he thought.

He hurt you.

He cares about you.

He said he might be a dick. He said he might hurt you. He said he might fuck you over. Don't give him the chance to.

He said he loves you. Don't deny him the chance to.

I don't fucking know any more, Isaac thought miserably. But even then, he knew deep down that he couldn't hold it against Scott. Had he been given the opportunity to kiss Scott, he would have seized it without even thinking about the consequences, he reflected.

After what could have been minutes or hours, Isaac's cell phone buzzed. He looked to the screen and read the message on it:

'pls just give me 1 more chance, I?'

Isaac read it and exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding. He keyed in a response:

'maybe I could forgive u, why did u come up 2 talk 2 me today?'

The reply came instantly:

'because I love u obvs :) trust me?'

A smile crept onto Isaac's face but he wasn't too sure where it came from. He knew whether he trusted Scott or not but he didn't know if his faith was justified. With a sigh, he read the next response as he typed it.

"I trust you."


	7. Isaac the Total Geek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson threw himself off his chair in a melodramatic display of his very real shock. He brought himself to his feet in dramatic fashion, gasping and wiping his eyes as if he was fighting tears. It was a real sight.
> 
> “You’ve never player Mario Kart?” Jackson asked on the back of a gasp. “Like, ever?”
> 
>  
> 
> It took Isaac just short of three hours – one hundred and seventy six minutes, according to the game play time clock on the Wii menu – to finally beat Jackson without being pushed off of the bed or distracted.
> 
> Coconut Mall was the name of his site of victory.
> 
>  
> 
> “Peter and Derek… found the Alphas. They know where… Erica and Boyd are,” Scott said through deep breaths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient with me. As a reward for you all for reading and waiting, the next chapter will be considerably longer than the rest of the ones in this fic!

“Ah,” Peter said when Isaac walked back into the large apartment after sulking for a while and changing from his gown into some proper clothes at Peter’s, “Derek, I think we have another attendee of the first annual ‘I Hate Allison Argent’ meeting. Should I take notes?”

His comment was met with grins from Jackson and a now-clothed Isaac but a heavy scowl from Derek.

“Isaac that was a fucking stupid thing you did,” Derek said. The ubiquitous anger in his voice hadn’t shifted. “Are you mentally deficient?”

“If I was mentally deficient, I would have missed,” Isaac didn’t bother trying to hide his grin and neither did Jackson. “Check that out: bulls-eye.” 

Jackson laughed out loud and came over to greet Isaac. 

“Good shot, man,” he clapped Isaac on the shoulder in congratulations, “Loved the curve you put in, you’ll have to teach me how to do that.”

“I would if you were sticking around long enough,” Isaac laughed but his face faded back into neutrality. He was sad to see Jackson go; after an entire school life of mutual dislike,   
the lacrosse co-captain had grown on him. And now he was getting ready to leave for London.

“Hey, I’m not going for another week yet,” Jackson grinned, “That leaves us plenty of time to beat a hoe.”

The grin returned to Isaac’s face as a mental image of himself, Peter and Jackson dressed up as Charlie’s Angels fighting with Allison popped into his head. 

“It’ll be sad to see you go, though,” Isaac said sincerely, “It’ll be tough convincing Peter to help me get her back and something tells me Derek isn’t keen on the idea.”

“Too right I’m not keen on the idea,” Derek growled, effectively ending Jackson and Isaac’s playful conversation. “Chris Argent has agreed to leave us alone. With Gerard, her mom   
and her aunt gone in the space of a couple of months, it would be kind to not to aggravate his daughter.”

“It would have been kind not to try to kill us all,” Isaac said, not bothering to drop his voice; Derek would have heard him anyway. 

“Agreed,” Derek said, surprisingly, “But that doesn’t mean that we should physically abuse someone who wants to help us; especially not the one person that’s keeping the deal   
with Chris on the table. You should know enough about physical abuse to know that it’s not great being on the receiving end.”

Everyone, including Derek, in the room knew that was a low blow. Totally unwarranted but it did get the point across. However, it also freed Isaac of all desire to talk to Derek.

“Okay,” he mumbled, looking away from his alpha, partly ashamed by his actions and partly wounded by Derek’s comment. He fell back onto the wooden chair that sat alongside   
the doorway and dropped his head to look at the floor.

Derek could see that he’d hurt Isaac but he wasn’t the apology type so he stalked past him and dragged his hand lightly over Isaac’s shoulder. It was to show affection, to tell him   
that he didn’t mean any hurt with his words, Isaac knew, but the hurt was caused all the same.

Even Peter the amoral warrior seemed to be feeling second-hand pain for Isaac because his ever present smirk had totally vanished. If Isaac had been looking, he would have   
reckoned that the last time that happened was when Derek slit his throat.

“Are you alright?” Jackson asked.

“Not really,” Isaac answered quietly with a half-laugh as the front door of the apartment slammed shut, signalling Derek’s departure. “I thought that was a little unnecessary.”

“Yes,” Peter said, matching Isaac’s quiet tone. He sounded genuinely upset which was definitely new. “I’m going to catch him up and give him hell.” 

A second slam of the door seconds later showed that he was serious. Isaac and Jackson were left in the apartment alone. Jackson pulled a wooden chair and sat down to face him.

“It’s alright, man,” he said softly, “That’s all behind you. You don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

No, Isaac thought, I don’t have to worry about my dad anymore. But Derek, I do need to worry about.

He didn’t say it though. As much as he felt that he should have, there was something about Jackson being warm, kind and attentive that Isaac didn’t want to ruin. He just nodded   
and smiled.

“I don’t think I’ve ever said this to you, but I am truly sorry,” Jackson said. His voice was still soft and to Isaac’s ears, it was calming. He’d never heard Jackson talk like this though   
and he looked up, confused, silently urging the other boy to continue.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, “Everything that you went through. I knew all about it for years, I even saw it happen a few times and I never did anything. I don’t know if one of the   
things that come with being a werewolf is a heightened sense of empathy but I was a total dick about that. I should have said something to someone. At the very least, I could have   
been nice to you.”

“Yeah, you could have,” Isaac conceded, “But there’s nothing you can do about it. You’re nice to me now; that’s what matters.”

A comfortable silence settled between them then and neither of them broke it for a few minutes. In the end, it was Jackson who spoke.

“Hey,” he said, “I bet I could kick your ass on Mario Kart.”

“Probably,” Isaac replied, “Considering I’ve never played.”

Jackson threw himself off his chair in a melodramatic display of his very real shock. He brought himself to his feet in dramatic fashion, gasping and wiping his eyes as if he was   
fighting tears. It was a real sight.

“You’ve never player Mario Kart?” Jackson asked on the back of a gasp. “Like, ever?”

Isaac’s brother Camden had never let him play video games during his childhood. The Nintendo 64 and the Playstation 2 that sat in his older brother’s room were strictly off limits   
to him.

By the time the versions that were compatible with the Wii that Isaac bought himself with the money from his first job, his father had already taken to claiming all of Isaac’s wages   
so he couldn’t afford any new games.

Even when he’d moved in permanently with Derek, he was paying too much into upkeep of the apartment (voluntarily, but still) to be able to afford more than a couple of new   
games and Mario Kart hadn’t been at the top of his list of priorities. 

So no, Isaac had never played Mario Kart. But judging by the look that Jackson had on his face, he could tell that that was about to change.

Grabbing his arm and pulling with the force and speed that any normal human wouldn’t believe, Jackson caused Isaac to stumble a grand total of four times on the way to the   
small spare bedroom that Jackson claimed for his own when he stayed at the apartment overnight. 

There was enough room for a single bed in the room but a double would have left no room to walk, that’s how small it was. A flat screen television that was far too big for its   
surroundings was mounted on the wall with a Nintendo Wii and an Xbox 360 resting on two separate stands directly below it. Isaac knew that Derek bought them along with the   
thirty DVDs on the third and final stand for if Scott, Jackson, Peter or any others were to stay the night to make it more comfortable for them. An uncharacteristically kind thing for   
Derek to do but Isaac had got to choose the DVDs himself so they were all ones he liked.

There were a few personal touches around the room that highlighted Jackson’s territorial claim: a Hugo Boss watched sat atop the windowsill next to a necklace that Isaac knew   
Lydia had handmade; a small poster of a couple of black guys wearing chains with dollar signs who Isaac could only assume were rappers was taped to the wall behind the bed; a   
recent model of some cell phone sat atop a crease of the black bed sheets.

Isaac looked at the phone as it lit up and was greeted by a picture of a smiling Jackson and Lydia with a little kid he didn’t know. He squinted to see the picture better and the   
letters SDCC became clear to him.

“Dude,” Isaac almost shouted in excitement. “You went to Comic Con?”

Jackson was fiddling with the television leads when Isaac spoke and he made one last tug and pressed the on button before turning around. The main menu screen of Mario Kart   
Wii formed on the screen behind him.

“Yeah,” he said smiling, “me and Lydia took my cousin last year. He is a total geek for that stuff but he enjoyed it and so did we to be honest.” He caught the awestruck look on   
Isaac’s and laughed. “I take it you’re also a total geek for that stuff.”

“Completely,” Isaac said without hesitation. “With no friends and a lot of time to kill, TV becomes an important part of your life.”

Jackson’s smile faltered but it returned again when he realized they’d struck on a decent topic of conversation. 

“So who would you want to see if you could go?” he asked, sitting on the bed and motioning for Isaac to join him. When Isaac did, he handed him one of the Wii controllers that   
was fixed into a plastic wheel.

“Game of Thrones is there this year; those books are great so I guess that would be cool. True Blood and Doctor Who would be must-sees and I’d love to meet the creators of The   
Simpsons,” Isaac said quickly and Jackson laughed at how eager he was. “Supernatural too, that’s my all-time favourite show.” 

“Supernatural huh,” Jackson said to himself and he reached back to grab the phone. Isaac wondered what he was doing but then he moved the phone so Isaac could see a picture   
of Lydia and Jackson’s cousin standing either side of Jared Padalecki.

“You met Jared?” Isaac asked exasperated. 

“Him and the other guy, Jensen I think his name was.” 

“Dude I could hit you right now.”

Jackson smirked and put his arm around Isaac, pulling him close to his side so the taller boy had no escape from his sickeningly smug grin. 

“Aw, you look precious when you’re jealous,” he laughed and gave Isaac a squeeze before pulling his arm back to have complete control of the Mario Kart menu that he was   
navigating. “He wants me to come back next year and take him again. I guess it wouldn’t be totally impossible for you to come with.”

Once again, Jackson laughed at his reaction. Isaac tried to respond but what came out resembled a spluttering sound and he stifled the noise with a cough.

“I’m serious, by the way,” Jackson said still grinning. “You’d be welcome to come; it’d be nice for Sammy to have an even bigger nerd than him to talk to.”

Isaac didn’t say anything. He couldn’t really. Instead he just grinned a wide, goofy, toothy grin that brought out another bout of laughter in Jackson but he didn’t care because the   
offer was genuine and it was so nice; especially coming from Jackson. 

Isaac was still grinning like a gormless fool as he tried to articulate a thank you when Jackson punched him on the arm. It wasn’t hard but it was a little sore and Isaac flinched as it   
took him by surprise. He looked up at Jackson.

“Pick your character,” Jackson said, as if nothing in the world was more important.

So Isaac did. He hovered over the blonde princess because he thought she looked pretty before he caught the amused expression on Jackson’s face and he quickly scrolled past.   
He settled on Mario because he was one of only two characters that Isaac could name and Jackson had already chosen Luigi.

Apparently the circuit they were playing was called Luigi Circuit so Isaac immediately assumed that Jackson had given himself an advantage. But it turned out to not be true. In fact,   
Jackson didn’t even win the first race and Isaac came 9th out of 12. He didn’t even finish last!

Jackson showed him all of the controls and let him play alone (supervised and under the influence of a serious back seat driver of course) until he got better and eventually won a   
race. 

The two played the game for well over three hours. After the first hour, Isaac got good enough to seriously challenge Jackson in some races. 

They moved on to more adventurous courses and Isaac’s game improved to the point that he actually led a race for an entire lap before Jackson (who was in something like 8th at   
the time) let off a blue shell that caused Isaac’s Mario to explode and fall to 5th. Isaac forced a furious look onto his face and turned to Jackson, who was giggling maniacally and   
there was nothing forced about that.

Throughout their game, the two of them chatted and laughed and exchanged stories and pushed each other and shared a bag of tortilla chips that Jackson pulled out from the   
draw under the bed.

One time, Isaac looked like he was just about to turn the final corner in the lead when Jackson nudged him, he fell off the bed and lost control, gifting Luigi the winner’s pedestal   
and causing Mario to have to settle with third place.

That was the thing that Isaac liked the most about Jackson. Outside of training, everybody – Boyd, Erica, Derek, Scott, even Peter – treated him as if he was some fragile thing that   
was about to break. They said whatever they wanted of course, they knew he was emotionally stronger than most, but they rarely touched him and when they did, it was   
cautiously. It was as if they thought that he was going to break into pieces if they poked him.

Not Jackson though; he never hesitated to be physical. Jackson never made him feel fragile or breakable and he never seemed to think of Isaac as one of those things either. Isaac   
loved it. 

It took Isaac just short of three hours – one hundred and seventy six minutes, according to the game play time clock on the Wii menu – to finally beat Jackson without being   
pushed off of the bed or distracted.

Coconut Mall was the name of his site of victory. 

The euphoric roar that came out of Isaac made Jackson start and after close to ten minutes of Isaac’s gloating, Jackson decided that it was time to turn off the games console.   
Apparently, he was a sore loser.

If Isaac had kept count, he would’ve known that he’d won one race compare to the forty six that Jackson had won – in a row. But that didn’t stop his gloating.

Eventually, Jackson suggested that they put a film on and so they ended up on the bed watching the third Pirates of the Caribbean movie. Jackson insisted that it was the best   
trilogy ever made – he refused to even acknowledge the fourth film.

“It’s not a ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ film if Keira Knightley isn’t in it, that’s the rule. Will Turner too,” he’d said.

Isaac laughed and agreed. He didn’t really mind if Keira Knightley was in it or not but Orlando Bloom’s Will Turner was the main reason he liked the series so much.

Jackson lay on the bed and Isaac sat beside him, a little further down, closer to the TV.

“Dude, lie down, you look uncomfortable as hell,” Jackson said. “Plus, you’re blocking my view, you ass.”

Isaac looked at him sceptically and Jackson rolled his eyes.

“Jesus,” Jackson said, “we’re ‘pack’, we’re watching a movie and you’re going to lie down next to me and whisper mean things about all our friends, that’s how these things work.”

Isaac’s sceptics didn’t shift but his body did. He lay down next to Jackson and found that the single bed was surprisingly wide enough for two people to comfortably fit on. Jackson   
curled an arm around Isaac’s shoulder and skipped the film to the scene with the meeting of the Brethren Court claiming that ‘Keira’s totally badass in this scene’.

“Now, I’ve gotta remind you,” Jackson said when Isaac was comfortable, “I’m straight and this is totally platonic.” 

“I’m serious,” he added when Isaac began to laugh, “If I fall asleep and wake up with you blowing me in my sleep I’m not going to be happy. Well, it depends how good you are, but   
I’m still going to throw you outta that window.”

“Okay,” Isaac laughed, “I promise I won’t blow you in your sleep.”

“Or do anything, I know how gay minds work, Isaac, I’ve been best friends with Danny for years.” Jackson looked deadly serious at this point and Isaac couldn’t tell if he was joking   
or not. “If I wake up and there’s even a boner poking into my leg, you’re not coming Comic Con.”

Isaac laughed again, still unsure of how serious the threat was but 100% sure that no amount of sleeping in a bed with Jackson would make him hard. He fixed his face into a   
solemn expression.

“I promise you won’t wake up to a boner poking you in the leg.” Isaac’s mouth twitched upwards. “Besides, you’re not my type anyway.”

Jackson laughed and squeezed Isaac’s shoulders. They watched the film and whispered and giggled like a pair of little girls at a sleepover. 

At one point, Isaac realized how safe he felt cuddled up to Jackson like that and yet the whole thing did still feel completely platonic. They were pack.

“Hey, Jackson,” Isaac asked quietly as Captain Jack held a dagger in one hand and the heart of Davy Jones in the other on-screen. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jackson replied. His voice was a little husky and Isaac could tell that he was falling asleep. “What’s up?”

“Scott kissed me the other day,” Isaac began. When Jackson didn’t react, he assumed that he wasn’t surprised, so he went on. “But you saw him with Allison today, right?” Jackson   
nodded. “Do you think he’s messing me around or does he actually like me?”

Jackson didn’t say anything for a fair amount of time. He didn’t move either. Just when Isaac had thought his question had been ignored, Jackson said something.

“I think he’s an idiot,” he said slowly. “But, I think he does care about you. He’s just not very good at timing or decision making.”

“But what about Allison, do you think he’ll get back with her?” Isaac asked, voicing his fear for the first time.

“Not if he knows what’s good for him,” Jackson said. “He’s an absolute moron if he chooses her over you.” 

Isaac was touched by the sincerity in Jackson’s voice. 

“Now go to sleep,” Jackson yawned, “And dream of pretty brown-eyed werewolves or whatever you dream of, but stop talking. I need my beauty sleep.”

Isaac laughed a short laugh before settling back into the pillow. He was asleep within minutes.

 

Isaac didn’t know if it was half an hour or half a day later when the pair was awoken. What he did know was that Scott’s voice sounded panicked as he shouted through the   
apartment. Ten seconds after his eyes had opened, Isaac stood at the front door facing him.

“They found them,” he said, panting. It took a lot for a werewolf to get seriously out of breath so Isaac knew that Scott must have ran full pelt the whole journey from his house to   
the apartment.

“Who found who?” Jackson came up behind Isaac rubbing his eyes; clearly he reacted worse to being woken up than Isaac did. Scott’s eyes flicked between them with a mixture of   
anger and sadness. Clearly, he had the wrong end of the stick. But in the end, his desperation to pass along a message overcame his own feelings.

“Peter and Derek… found the Alphas. They know where… Erica and Boyd are,” Scott said through deep breaths. 

Isaac and Jackson gave Scott a minute to catch his breath. Then the three of them bolted out of the apartment, pulling the door closed behind them and activating the automatic   
locking system.

In the elevator, Scott turned to Isaac and explained.

“Peter and Derek were arguing in the street when they caught the scent. They followed it and Derek text me to tell me where they were. The Alphas’ scents had gone but they   
picked up on Erica and Boyd’s and another’s. They don’t know who it is yet but Derek thinks it’s familiar.”

Isaac took a moment to process the information. Apparently Derek had filled Scott in on the Alpha pack without telling him. Even after asking for Isaac’s opinion on whether Scott   
should help or not.

“Okay,” Jackson said, “So where are they?”

“They’re at an abandoned bank. It makes sense right, big vaults for prisoners and dozens of hidey holes,” Scott said quietly. 

The three of them knew how dangerous this was going to be. An entire pack of Alphas versus a bunch of teenagers, a middle-aged undead guy and one single borderline suicidal   
Alpha; they had next to no chance.

“Is it just us?” Isaac asked.

“No,” a voice said as the elevator opened. “I’m coming too.”


	8. Salvation and Savagery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Now Kali, what have I told you about courteousness towards guests?”
> 
> Almost impossibly, it worked.
> 
> “I think in time, you’ll come to regret that decision.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is well over double the length of any others in this fic but it had to be to fit everything that I wanted in it. So I hope you all enjoyed it!

Isaac was less than thrilled at their travel arrangement to say the least. He and Jackson had been forced into the back seat of the small car that Scott had borrowed from his mother. In the front passenger seat sat a surly Allison, a crossbow laid across her lap and a duffle bag that could only contain her collapsible bow stuffed into the foot space in front of her.

It would have been much quicker for the werewolves to travel by foot than by car but Allison’s presence mean that vehicular transport was required – and it infuriated Isaac. 

The entire point of us going to this fucking place is to help Derek and Boyd and Erica, Isaac silently seethed. That’s going to be a lot more difficult when we turn up fifteen minutes late. Not to mention the fact that we’re only going to be half concentrated because I’ll sure as hell be keeping one eye on her at all times.

With each glance shared with Jackson, Isaac became more and more convinced that they shared the opinion. And with each scowl he caught Jackson sending at Allison, he became more and more convinced that Jackson was just as set on keeping a solid eye on her.

The journey passed slowly; seconds stretched to minutes, minutes stretched to what seemed like hours. Isaac and Jackson glared at Allison who in turn shot them dirty looks every so often in her handheld mirror. Scott picked up on it but he pressed his lips into a tight line and held his tongue. 

They parked up a block away from the bank. Scott insisted that he had to keep out of sight of the bank for two reasons: he didn’t want the Alphas to know they were there and, more importantly, if he took his mother’s car home with any marks from angry werewolves, the wrath of Melissa would put the whole pack war into perspective.

Isaac made to open his door but before he could, Scott’s casual elbow flicked the automatic locking on, effectively shutting them all in together. Isaac felt a bubble of panic rise in his chest but he stifled it with a reminder to himself that Scott wouldn’t hurt him. Claustrophobia, it seemed, listened to reason. He calmed. 

“Look,” Scott said, turning so he could see all three of his passengers. His tone suggested that he shouldn’t be interrupted. “I’m not going to patronize you by reminding you what we’re about to do. But I need to make sure that none of you are going to attack each other.”

Scott’s eyes ran over Allison and then to Jackson and then came to a stop on Isaac. A slight cock of the driver’s eyebrow then was enough to let everyone in the car know who he was talking to.

“I’m not going to attack her,” Isaac said. “But if she takes a tumble of a three story ledge, do not expect me to break her fall.”

Allison remained quiet but then, Scott hadn’t been talking to her. Obviously he trusted her completely. In Scott’s eyes it was only Isaac that needed reminding. The bubble of panic that Isaac had stifled morphed into anger but again, he repressed it.

Clenching his teeth, Isaac watched Scott and waited for more but the other boy just turned away and clicked the automatic locking off. They all exited the car.

Evening had set in over Beacon Hills, California. The first strings of darkness crept across the sky as the sun slowly descended into and beyond the horizon. As four teenagers stood outside the front of an abandoned bank building, the light faded too slowly for even supernatural eyes to detect. And yet, they could all feel the light leaving and darkness setting in.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Scott was muttering under his breath, too softly for ordinary humans to detect. Isaac and Jackson heard it but Allison couldn’t. They all felt the same way though; bravery can only take you so far without having to stop and reassure yourself.

Isaac raised a hand to meet the cold steel door handle and gave it a little push. The door budged. Either Peter and Derek had done a good job of infiltrating the building, or the Alphas didn’t bother with locking up. 

The four of them moved into the building and closed the door behind them. Immediately, the wolves caught a scent.

“What is it? What do you smell?” Allison asked, picking up on the way the three boys lifted their noses a little into the air as they breathed in.

“Blood,” Scott said uneasily, “And something else. I know it but I can’t think of what it is.” 

“Whatever it is, it doesn’t smell good,” Jackson whispered. 

A low growl from somewhere far deeper into the building echoed through the empty halls. 

Derek, Isaac thought. That’s Derek.

He would have recognized the sound of Derek’s growl anywhere. He took a step forward and found his way blocked by a hand; Scott’s hand.

“You don’t know what’s down there,” he heard Scott whisper. “This feels too easy.”

Scott looked a little confused and very concerned. Normally not a great combination, the expression on his face made him look incredibly attractive at that moment to Isaac. Isaac decided not to comment on that. Instead he took another, more cautious, step forward. 

“What’s your point?” Isaac asked. His cautious step took him in front of the other three. He was leading the way, commanding; for the one moment, he was the Alpha of the pack. Then Allison spoke again and the moment was gone.

“His point is that this is too easy,” Allison said. She had an uncanny ability to make a whisper sound like a snarl. “On the off chance that this isn’t a trap, we’re going to be outnumbered and overpowered.” She arranged her face into a sickly mocking smile. “It’s like you’re trying to be utterly predictable.”

Isaac turned back to face her. He had half a mind to attack her and, judging by the shift in his movement, Scott could read what he was thinking. Incredibly, Isaac felt her sickly smile reflected on his own features.

“They know we’re not stupid, that’s why they haven’t sought us out yet,” he said, never breaking eye contact with her and smiling the whole time. Peter had told him this was the case so at least Isaac would have somebody to yell at if Allison publicly shot down the theory. “They expect us to try and find some other way in. What they won’t be expecting is for us to just walk through the front door as if we’re not worried. Going in through, say, a vent would be so… utterly predictable.”

Isaac didn’t know when he’d become a master strategist but he did know that he liked the impressed glances that he caught Jackson and Scott shooting him. He also knew that he loved the hateful look Allison shot him at the same time.

He took another step towards the walkway that led into the building – and felt a solid mixture of pride and relief swell in his chest when Scott and Jackson motioned to follow. Even Allison didn’t argue and she fell into a step behind them. They moved down the passage.

They walked slowly, masking the sounds of their steps as best they could. Occasionally, growls and cries of pain and anger became audible; most of the time these noises were from Derek but Isaac definitely made out two different voices as well as his Alpha’s and Scott swore that one of them was female.

The four did their best to keep silent. Nobody had spoken in the several minutes between Isaac and Allison’s strategy battle and getting to the point that they had reached at that moment. 

The growls and cries were joined by incomprehensible chatter. A third and fourth unknown voice joined the conversation but none of Isaac’s rescue team could make out what they were saying. Every time they became audible, they seemed louder than the time before. Isaac took this as a good sign.

As far as they could tell, there was no sign of Peter. Either he was absent from the fighting or uncharacteristically silent, neither of which were good omens. Still, Peter had proven more than resilient in the past and he was not their priority. They had to find Derek and come to his aid.

The bank itself was an eerie place. Low ceilings combined with narrow, windowless corridors gave the place a very claustrophobic feel to it. Despite the cramped layout of the corridors, the place seemed to go on forever. 

Every so often, Isaac would turn to look back at the three people following him. More than anything, he wanted to feel reassured that they believed that he was doing the correct thing, going the correct way, taking the correct action. Jackson never stopped following him for a second and every time Isaac caught Scott’s eye, he was greeted with an encouraging smile.

They paused once, so Allison could restring her bow. Isaac wasn’t happy with it but he couldn’t argue with her reasoning – she wouldn’t have the time to spare once they located the Alphas – so he stayed quiet and glared silently past her. 

Scott was decidedly detached from the pair of them. He seemed to be oddly close to Jackson, he had been for the whole time that they were inside the bank. Other than the encouraging smiles and reassuring pats on the shoulder he kept throwing in Isaac’s direction, he totally ignored the makeshift leader. Allison was snubbed even more.  
Jackson was trying his hardest to bite back anything he wanted to say to Allison; Isaac could see it on him. It wasn’t exactly a difficult struggle but Jackson was the sort of person that loved no feeling more than that of causing someone mild discomfort.

Allison finished stringing her bow and gestured at Isaac to proceed. It was probably the politest thing that she’d done in Isaac’s presence since before she had stabbed him repeatedly in the warehouse. He followed her suggestion and moved on. Everybody followed.

Eventually, the group came to a door at the end of a long, narrow passage. It was steel, heavy looking and definitely immovable to an ordinary human being. Of course, the third rule didn’t apply to three werewolves.

Once the steel door rested on the floor having been removed from its hinges in a quiet manner, the three boys and Allison stepped through the doorway to be greeted with an incredible sight. 

They found themselves on a balcony overlooking a room that could once have been used for any manner of activities. It was dead square and large enough to have easily been able to fit a thousand seated people into it. The desks stacked against the far wall to where he stood suggested to Isaac that the room had once been used for meetings and consultancy. 

Isaac, Jackson, Scott and Allison stood on a balcony above the North East wall. This they knew because the wall facing them had ‘South West’ scrawled into a built in stone slab. To their left, the wall had an identical stone slab with the words ‘South East’ carved into it. The wall to their right had the same stone sign with the words ‘North West’ etched into it.

The North East and South West walls were identical as far as they could see. The both had a balcony that ran their length, both balconies had two wooden doors at each end and a steel one in the middle – or rather they both had until a moment before Isaac, Scott, Jackson and Allison had arrived.

The South East wall appeared to be an entrance to the room. A long disused revolving door separated two automatic sliding doors. The doors led into another room that most likely hosted a waiting area.

But it was the North West wall that caught the eyes of the quartet. In the centre of it, directly below the engraving in the stone slab, was a vault; a gigantic, walk-in vault that ten people could have strolled side by side into with room to spare. Its door was so thick that no werewolf could have budged it if it was locked. Luckily (or unluckily, Isaac was yet to decide), it was open at a right angle. 

They couldn’t see into the open vault because of the angle that they looked at it from but it was obvious to all four of them that it was the source of the fighting noises, the crying noises and the growling noises. 

Jackson and Isaac jumped down from the balcony and landed perfectly. Scott came just after. Allison however, stayed on the balcony. She moved to the far end so that she could see as much of the room inside the vault as she could. As Isaac gathered himself on the ground, he looked up to see her reaching for an arrow and readying herself to shoot on a split second’s notice.

Isaac, Jackson and Scott gained sight of the inside of the vault at the same time. They looked into it together and were greeted by the sight of six figures. The three of them began to move towards the vault’s door but found that they couldn’t cross over the threshold. There was nothing there that they could see that could prevent them from entering the vault but a quick sniff told Isaac that they were blocked from the room by mountain ash.

Five of the six figures inside the vault turned to look at Isaac, Scott and Jackson. Isaac knew three of them but the others were total strangers to him. A quick glance at his two companions told him that they didn’t recognize them either. All three of the strangers had strong werewolf scents though, meaning that nobody in the vault could get Isaac, Scott and Jackson for the time being because of the mountain ash.

Derek looked up from the floor. He was on his back and was visibly in pain. Blood poured from a thick gash on his jaw and he coughed, retched and whined between shaky breaths. He wasn’t dying, Isaac could sense, but he was in a very bad position. 

Erica and Boyd were in similar positions, only they were bound by chains. They lifted their eyes a little to see the boys. The cuffs and manacles that bound them together and to the wall looked heavy and uncomfortable. Boyd looked like he was doing his best but Erica looked so resigned to her impending death that Isaac felt a pang of grief as if she were already dead.

Standing above Derek was a building of a man. He looked closer to seven feet than six and his bare torso appeared to have more ripples of muscle than Isaac had curls on his head. The Goliath’s face was contorted into an ugly smile; clearly he was enjoying putting Derek through pain and misery. Isaac felt the anger begin to build inside him.

Behind the creature – man seemed like too soft a word to describe him – stood a barefoot woman. Her dark skin was free of any blemish from what Isaac could make out. Her matching dark hair was perfectly sculpted and didn’t move an inch when she turned to glare at them; Isaac would have asked for hairspray recommendations under different circumstances. 

The third stranger was the least intimidating – and yet, the most intriguing. He was of average height, average build and, going by the walking cane that he clutched in his right hand, average physical prowess for the early retirement age that he looked. The only things that suggested that he wasn’t a typical man were the visor sunglasses resting on the crook of his nose and the Taser gun in his left hand.

He was clearly blind. Out of all six people in the vault, he was the only person who didn’t turn around to stare at the newcomers. He knew they were there though; he was the first to speak to them.

“Good evening, children,” the man said in a voice that was nothing if not kind. “I pray you don’t mind me calling you that. A man of my age finds it easier than struggling to remember all of your names and risk offending you when he inevitably forgets.”

Polite as well as kind, the man couldn’t possibly have seemed out of place. A seemingly polite and timid blind man in the midst of a brawl between werewolves; you couldn’t make it up.

But there was something about him; whereas the other Alphas had their own scent that Isaac could recognize, this odd man didn’t. He smelled like nothing. Not human, not werewolf, not anything. That’s what told Isaac that he was a werewolf, and a powerful one at that. The man was masking his scent.

Derek had once told him that Alphas had the ability to hide their werewolf scent. It was something that came with the red eyes. To other wolves, they’d smell human.  
But he also said that the human scent was something that most werewolves didn’t have control over. Because it was their natural default setting and nothing to do with their supernatural side, the vast majority of werewolves couldn’t do anything to stop their human smell. 

Derek then said that there were a few werewolves who had the power to modify their human side as well as their wolf side. His mother had been one of them so he had seen what they could do up close. They could manipulate their voice into sounding like other people, they could change the colour of their eyes at will (that one affected both their werewolf side and their human side) and they could mask their scent as well as getting rid of it completely. These werewolves were known as Alpha-Omegas.

This man smelled like nothing. His voice was probably manipulated. Like Derek’s mother, he was a member of the exclusive ultra-werewolf clique. Like Derek’s mother he was an Alpha-Omega. 

“I take it that you three are part of this charming young man’s pack,” the Alpha-Omega said, his voice still calm and warm as he gestured to the bloodied and beaten body of Derek Hale. Derek made to move and the dark skinned woman shot an unexpectedly powerful kick into his abdomen. Derek doubled over.

Next to Isaac, Scott nodded. Unconsciously, Isaac made to move behind him but he stopped himself. He didn’t want to appear weak in front of the Alphas.

“My name is Deucalion,” the Alpha-Omega said. “This is Kali and Ennis.” He swept a hand in the direction of the dark skinned woman and the gargantuan werewolf. “I fear that this is a bad time for you to meet us; nothing creates a worse first impression than kidnapping three of your friends. Except, I suppose, kidnapping four of your friends.”

“Is it just the three of you?” Isaac heard Jackson ask. The tone was angry but subdued. Isaac would have reckoned that nobody but he would have picked up on that but he knew it would be unwise to assume there was a limit to Deucalion’s powers of perception.

Luckily, Deucalion didn’t pick up on it. Either that or Jackson’s anger merely didn’t concern him.

“Here now, yes, it is just the three of us,” Deucalion said. “However, there is a pair of young twins that are in our charge so they will also be fighting the war that your Alpha insists on igniting.”

Despite his voice being no colder than it was before, it chilled Isaac. He felt Jackson and Scott stiffen too. This man was so confident in himself that he didn’t even find the need to attempt to be even slightly deceptive. He wasn’t even slightly cautious of the three boys separated from him by a line of mountain ash. And that terrified them.

“Please let them go,” Isaac heard himself beg with a whimpering voice. He felt detached from his body as he realized how helpless a situation they were in. He sounded so pathetic, even to himself, but he couldn’t stop the words from coming.

Deucalion turned then. His blind eyes looked over to Isaac through the sunglasses and Isaac could have sworn that his soul was being stared directly into. The Alpha-Omega walked over to the vault door and came to a halt only a foot or two away from them.

“We intend to, don’t you worry, my boy,” Deucalion said with a smile that looked so warm and genuine it wouldn’t have been out of place on the face of an elder at a family reunion. “First though, we must get our message across.”

He glanced down then and Isaac followed his eyes. The line of mountain ash separating them looked back at them.

“It is a curious thing, mountain ash,” Deucalion said in a ponderous tone. It was the first time his voice had been anything other than its neutral – Isaac assumed it was neutral anyway – warm and friendly tone. “Did you know that it can be controlled? Some are immune naturally, of course, and some find it more toxic than others, but some werewolves can train their bodies to be completely unaffected by it.”

“Duke,” the female voice came from behind Deucalion – Kali, Isaac assumed, as Ennis is a much more masculine name. Although, to be fair, there was very little about Kali that screamed typical femininity – and the Alpha-Omega’s ears perked up to show that he was listening to her without turning around. “We have things to do; you might want to wrap it up with the kids.”

Deucalion’s face fell into something that resembled solemnity. 

“I’m afraid that Kali is correct,” he said to the three teenage werewolves who were still facing him. “We are very busy today. You’re welcome to stay and watch us have a little… conversation. But you’ll have to stay out there and spectate.”

A swoosh sound hit Isaac’s ear at that point and he felt a ripple of movement in the air. The sound was past him before he even had a chance to react and when he located the source of it, Deucalion smiled. Apparently his lack of eyesight didn’t affect his ability to catch an arrow mid-flight.

“Miss Argent, I take it,” Deucalion said, the warmth in his voice gone. He adopted an aggressively cold and low tone that fit him much more than the kindly voice of the moments before. “I know your father. For a hunter, he’s not a bad person. I may even spare his life.” Isaac heard Allison’s fearful inhalation and cursed himself for feeling smug for a split second. “Your grandfather, on the other hand, shan’t be so lucky. That arrow may have just shaped your immediate future, too.”

Isaac felt Scott tense beside him and he reached out to steady him. He rested his hand on Scott’s shoulder and felt the eyes of Kali drift over to them.

“The two of you look sweet together,” she remarked with a smile that looked nothing short of evil. “I’ll make sure we pick out a nice double grave for you.”

Isaac felt Scott shiver but what she’d said gave him an odd burst of courage. Isaac had dealt with people like her before; she was a bully. His father had been exactly the same minus the three inch long toenails and superhuman abilities. And she was going to try and kill him anyway so there was no point in worrying about whether she was going to hurt him. He stood his ground and smiled at her. 

Kali began to say something but she was cut short by a wave of Deucalion’s hand. 

“Now Kali, what have I told you about courteousness towards guests?” The Alpha-Omega asked. The question was left unanswered though as the screech of a pair of motorbikes became audible to all of the werewolves. 

“It seems that you’ll be meeting Ethan and Aiden sooner than we had anticipated,” Deucalion said.

“Do you expect them to be courteous?” Kali asked. Isaac was wondering the exact same thing.

Deucalion just smiled.

Aiden and Ethan were red-headed twins who didn’t look like they’d left their teenage years behind. They entered the room through the revolving door on the South East wall, coming to a stop when they saw the three unexpected visitors in front of them. One of the twins glanced up to the balcony that Allison was on and noticed her standing there.

“Hey Duke,” one of the twin Alphas said, “What’s going on here?”

“I’m afraid we’re too busy to talk at this moment in time,” Deucalion replied and Isaac could have sworn that he heard the smile in the Alpha-Omega’s voice, “Perhaps you two could entertain them for us.”

The twins smirked and looked Scott, Isaac and Jackson over. Three against two would have tipped the balance in favour of the trio but these were two Alphas. Three against one wouldn’t be an advantage if that one was an Alpha against three betas.

Before anybody had time to move, the twins moved to grasp the hem of their shirts and in unison, they pulled the thin jumpers over their head to reveal a pair of perfectly defined torsos. They moved faultlessly in sync.

One of them dropped to his hands and knees, grinning up at the three confused as hell boys in front of him. His brother moved behind him and shot his hand down to connect with his spine. Or that’s what it looked line initially, but when Isaac looked at Scott and saw his incredulous expression, he craned his head to see what was happening better. And he really wished he hadn’t.

The standing twin’s hand had moulded into the spine of the twin on his knees. By the time Isaac looked, his arm was inside his brother’s back up to his elbow. The point of contact widened and they began some sort of grotesque transformation in which they literally became one giant werewolf.

If Ennis was big, these guys were off the scale when joined together. Isaac himself was tall for his age, he stood a little over six feet, but he was barely half the size of this monstrosity. 

For a split second, it occurred to Isaac that one brother was ‘inside’ the other and he had to suppress a little smile but a glance at the beast reminded him that no amount of gay sex and incest jokes was going to stop this thing from trying to pull his bones apart. The thought forced his lips back into a single thin line.

The beast stood tall and intimidating as the three teenage boy wolves looked up at it. This thing was way above their skill range. Isaac had half a mind to bolt but he restrained himself for fear of appearing weak in the first confrontation with the Alphas.

Nobody moved for a few long seconds. Nobody spoke, nobody breathed. And then something happened that angered Isaac more than anything had angered him in a long time: Allison shot an arrow.

The beast didn’t even move to catch it; he just looked down at the arrow protruding from his gigantic rib cage. He pulled the arrow out and threw it to the ground and then lifted his face skyward to release an ear splitting raw.

You stupid fucking bitch, Isaac silently raged at Allison, I hope you die tonight for that.

Nobody in the room mistook Allison’s arrow for a smart move; the arrow left the beast totally unharmed and had only succeeded in enraging the monster. Underneath the sound of the beast’s roar, Isaac heard Deucalion softly chuckling to himself.

Isaac chanced a look backwards; Kali and Ennis were knelt over Derek but he couldn’t see what they were doing. Judging by his Alpha’s contorted face though, Isaac reckoned it wasn’t fun. 

He turned back to face the imminent danger and was greeted by a foot to the face.

The beast had covered half the length of the room in a second and Isaac found himself sprawled out on the floor before he knew what was going on. His head hit the concrete with a resounding smack.

He pushed himself back up to his feet and forced himself to shift. He felt the hairs on his face grow out and his jaw elongate a little. Fangs sprouted out of his human teeth and his eyebrows furrowed into one thick, angry line. A flash of warmth in his eyes told him that his irises had switched from their natural brilliant blue to a bright, unnatural yellow. 

Isaac took a step forward so he was in line with Scott and Jackson again. The beast was only a few feet in front of them, just out of their reach but well within his own. The three of them shared a look and then attacked. 

As it turned out, the beast wasn’t just fast, strong and seemingly immune to pain; he was also very thorough with his beatings. He took on Scott, Isaac and Jackson all at once with Allison shooting arrows at him, some hitting the target and some missing. None of them seemed to be doing the giant any harm whatsoever.

It seemed to Isaac that the only reason that he, Scott, Jackson and Allison weren’t already dead was that the beast wasn’t putting everything into the fight. Apparently he saw them as some sort of training exercise, maybe even light entertainment. 

Isaac ducked under a punch that had the force of a freight train behind it and rolled behind his assailant. The beast was too busy fighting Scott and Jackson to pay him much attention; it wasn’t like Isaac was actually doing him any harm.

Isaac glanced up at Allison who was pointing over at the vault door. It took a second for him to understand what she was trying to say but when he caught sight of the thin trail of mountain ash, he realized. They could use the mountain ash as a weapon.

An old floor brush was rested against the wall. Isaac picked it up and swung it around so that he was ready to attack with the brush end. With as much strength as he could muster, he raced forward and thrust the bristles at the beast’s face. Before he connected, he shouted, causing the Alpha to turn around and the old brush’s bristles planted themselves into the thing’s eyes.

That beast was left howling in pain at that and Isaac bolted before the incensed beast could find him with its vice-like grip. He grabbed Jackson and Scott as he moved. 

They fell back to the edge of the vault and let the beast charge at them. Isaac held his hands out to stop Scott and Jackson. He knew he was taking a massive risk because the beast’s reflexes were incredible but it was a risk he had to take now. Risk or die.

The beast came at them and Isaac held until the last minute. He glimpsed Allison ready her bow, the blue Wolfsbane arrow resting against the string. 

“NOW,” he shouted. Jackson and Scott knew what to do so the shout was unnecessary; he shouted out purely in the hope that it would in some way disorientate the beast. Almost impossibly, it worked.

The noise combined with three bodies throwing themselves in three different directions was enough to distract the giant from the sound of an arrow flying at it. He turned in time to see an arrow lodge itself in his chest. The force of it pushed him backwards into the barrier of mountain ash.

On a normal beta werewolf, this would have been a severely wounding shot. Coupled with the impact of being pushed into and then expelled from the mountain ash barrier, it would have been almost certainly fatal. Probably due to their fucked up combined transformed state, the arrow missed their vitals and the double impact didn’t kill them. 

The Wolfsbane arrow fell to the floor as the twins were forced out of their change. Their human bodies hit the floor in unison and blood seeped out of a wound in each of their shoulders. They didn’t appear to have any other wounds. Luckily, the Wolfsbane had done the trick and they remained grounded and seemingly unconscious. 

Isaac watched as Scott flashed a thumbs-up gesture and a smile to Allison up on the balcony. Jealousy raged through him for a moment – he’d done just as much to ground the beast as Allison had – but his sudden flare of anger was satiated when Scott turned to him and rested a hand upon his shoulder.

“Quick thinking,” Scott whispered. “Well done man, you may have just saved our lives.”

Isaac couldn’t help but smile as he looked at Scott. Praise was one thing but Scott’s was another. It turned him into a little girl talking to her childhood crush.

“Thanks,” Isaac said with a grin that was way too wide to not be considered an over the top reaction. Scott smiled back, though nowhere near as gormlessly. Isaac would have been happy to stay looking at the little lopsided smile forever but Jackson cleared his throat and ruined the moment. 

Of the three of them, Jackson had definitely come out the worst. Scott had had a few cuts and bruises that were on their way to healing. Isaac had suffered a fairly deep gash in his leg that gave him a slight limp. That would take longer, but it would still be healed by the time they got back to the apartment… if they got back to the apartment.

Jackson, however, had been picked up and thrown against a wall. He’d twisted his body to shield his spine but the force had been enough to break his arm. Just below the elbow, Jackson’s arm bent out the wrong way. It would heal within a day or so but there was no way that Jackson could fight any more.

Kali moved towards the mountain ash barrier and pressed herself against it. Her face was plastered in concern and she looked like nothing mattered to her at the moment other than the twins lying unmoving on the floor.

“Let me out,” she said to Deucalion. Her voice was pained and she looked not far from tears. And yet, there was still a ferocity in her eyes; an anger that would be calmed only in sleep or in death. “I need to go to them.” 

Isaac was confused by that. Kali was talking as if Deucalion had control over the mountain ash barrier. He thought back to what Deucalion was saying about how some werewolves could train their bodies to be immune and he wondered. Deucalion’s voice cut his speculation short.

“You know I don’t have the power to do that Kali,” he said, moving to rest a hand on the she wolf’s shoulder. “And if I could, I wouldn’t.”

He didn’t have to though because at that moment there was another whooshing sound and another of Allison’s arrows flew at Deucalion. It didn’t go within two metres of him but Isaac realized that he wasn’t the target. 

The arrow flew through the vault and came to rest where a wall met the floor. The trail of mountain ash beneath it lay scattered by the wind its impact had produced.   
Kali stepped over the threshold of the vault and Deucalion didn’t attempt to stop her. Her evil glare moved from Jackson to Scott, to Isaac and then to Allison before coming to rest upon the twins. Her face softened and she fell to her knees between them, cradling their heads and whispering assurances that they were safe. Apparently, as well as being a formidable superhuman, Kali was the maternal figure of the Alpha pack.

Behind Isaac, Scott stepped forward. He moved to face Deucalion, only a metre between them. 

“Enough of this,” Scott said in the most commanding voice he could muster and even though his heartbeat didn’t stutter and his hands were steady, Isaac knew he was scared. The tensed muscle in Scott’s jaw combined with the way that he stood firmly rooted to the ground instead of the way he normally shifted his weight unconsciously told Isaac that he was scared and apprehensive. These were just things that Isaac noticed. 

“Enough of this,” Scott repeated. “Take your pack and let them recover. Let us do the same with ours.”

Isaac thought it was insane that Scott was just asking Deucalion to spare the pack. It was a crazy thought and obviously somebody who had taken the time to kidnap two teenagers and then set two killing machines on their potential rescuer wouldn’t just let them leave without –

“Alright,” Deucalion said, his voice as warm as it had been when greeting the teenagers, before they’d come close to killing a member of his pack, as if nothing had ever happened. “Take your wounded to recover.” He lazily gestured at Derek and then at Erica and Boyd. “We shall do the same with ours.” He gestured the same lazy hand at Aiden and Ethan, who were by this point semi-conscious and being fussed over by Kali and Ennis, who had abandoned Derek to assist his pack members.

Isaac couldn’t believe their luck; this Alpha among Alphas was being lenient with them. He actually seemed to be okay with their suggestion. And none of his pack had moved against them so it seemed that they were genuinely content with Isaac, Jackson, Scott and Allison walking out of their alive. They were even okay with them taking Erica, Boyd and Derek with them!

Isaac moved past Scott and Deucalion and into the vault. He stopped to kneel over Derek, who was coughing up blood and struggling to sustain a sitting position. Isaac slid his legs under Derek and cradled his head. Derek met hit eye and smiled gratefully. 

“Peter… scarpered,” he managed to stutter. “3 against 1 is not fun.”

Isaac smiled and shushed him, aware of how much pain Derek was causing himself by talking.

Jackson walked past them both and headed over to Erica and Boyd. He released them from the chains and they fell to the floor. They hadn’t even been bound tightly but whatever had happened in their time in captivity, it had drained them completely. 

Scott was still facing off with Deucalion – although considering Deucalion’s blindness, Isaac didn’t see the point in putting on the brave face – while Jackson and Isaac tended to Boyd, Derek and Erica. Derek could walk himself with a little aid from Isaac but Boyd and Erica were dead weights. 

Derek limped out of the vault by leaning on Isaac while Jackson carried Erica over his shoulder and out to safety. Either of them could have carried Boyd thanks to their super strength, but they thought it would be more dignified if he could at least half-walk out. So Jackson and Isaac each took an arm and led him out of the hall.

They left the three of them outside the revolving door that Aiden and Ethan had come in. The two of them plus Scott could get them out of the building and judging by Allison’s absence from the balcony, she was on her way down to help too.

Good, Isaac thought, she might be a cunt but at least she’s useful.

Isaac and Jackson walked back into the hall to get Scott, Isaac limping on his cut leg and Jackson cradling his broken arm. They both stopped when they saw Scott’s face.

“What’s the matter?” Isaac asked him without even stopping to think how weak he’d be making Scott look. But Scott didn’t seem to care – in fact, it didn’t even seem to process. 

“Isaac, we need to talk,” Scott motioned him to a corner of the room, “Now.”

To say Isaac was a little confused would have been an understatement; he’d seen this conversation coming but now? It wasn’t like Scott to interrupt a battle with a declaration of his feelings. 

Oh well, Isaac thought to himself and he walked over to where Scott had pointed at, at least I’ll know now, either way.

Scott put his lips right next to Isaac’s ear when he spoke; he was speaking directly into Isaac’s eardrum so that none of the other werewolves in the room would be able to hear him.

“Deucalion says that he’s not going to let us leave unless you stay behind,” he whispered urgently. “I don’t know why but he says he wants to talk to you alone and he wants us to take the others away and then come back for you.”

Isaac pulled away and stared at him, processing the information. What would Deucalion want with him? He didn’t like the idea of staying behind at all let alone staying behind alone but he knew that Scott wouldn’t have even entertained the idea if they’d had another choice. 

If Deucalion said that he wouldn’t let them leave, it would literally be a tired Scott, a broken armed Jackson, a limping Isaac, a human archer with no height advantage and three wolves wounded to the point that they couldn’t stand alone against the might of the three most powerful werewolves within a very large area. Not good odds. Slowly, Isaac nodded.

“Okay,” he said, “I’ll do it.” 

Scott frowned but returned the nod. He leaned in again to speak into Isaac’s ear once more. 

“I’m sorry,” he said as softly as possible, “I wish we had another option.”

Isaac smiled. “But we don’t,” he said simply. “Take Jackson and get them out of here, I’ll catch up.”

Scott pulled back and smiled a sad smile. He lifted a hand and ran a finger along Isaac’s prominent cheekbones. He leant in and kisses Isaac on the lips. Their lips touched only for a second but it was enough to make Isaac’s heart skip three beats. 

Scott pulled away and, with a smile, he tapped Isaac’s cheek.

“I need to talk to you when I see you next,” he said, “And something tells me it’ll be a conversation you expected to be having now.”

Isaac’s stomach sank; was he really that readable that Scott knew what he expected? Apparently, yes, he was. 

Isaac stood and watched as Scott filled Jackson in on what was happening. Jackson looked by no means happy about it but everybody in the room knew that there was nothing that he could do about it.

When they’d left, Isaac turned to face the Alpha leader. Kali and Ennis had taken the twins somewhere outside the room to recover. Maybe as well as her battle skills and maternal instincts, Kali had a nursing qualification. The thought gave Isaac chills, he wouldn’t want to come to in a hospital room and find her standing over him.   
Deucalion and Isaac were alone in the room.

“Tell me, boy,” Deucalion said with the warmth in his voice at an all-time high. Oddly, it reminded Isaac of the falsely kind voice that his father sometimes adopted moments before beating him senseless because he’d forgotten a mug when he washed the dishes. “What is your name?”

Isaac drew himself up to look as big as possible. He knew he was nothing intimidating and Deucalion couldn’t see him anyway but the movement gave him confidence.  
“Isaac Lahey,” he said defiantly. 

“You’re a member of Derek’s pack?” Isaac couldn’t tell if it was a statement or a question so he just nodded.

“I’m blind; remember?” Deucalion said in the voice of a loving father chastising his child affectionately for doing something silly, “You’ll have to give me a proper answer instead of nodding or shaking your head, Isaac.”

“Yes, I am,” Isaac said whilst wondering how Deucalion had known he’d nodded. Lucky guess, he assumed. “I was the first person Derek turned.”

“Interesting, interesting,” Deucalion said to himself. “Would you say that you’re happy with your Alpha?” 

Isaac was a little taken aback by the frankness of the question but he answered anyway.

“Completely,” Isaac said sincerely, “Derek rescued me from my life and I’ve been treated with nothing but respect since.”

Deucalion looked like he was pondering Isaac’s answer for a moment but he didn’t say anything further on the topic. 

“Isaac,” he said instead, “Come and stand by me.”

Isaac did as he was told.

“Do I intimidate you? Scare you, perhaps?” Deucalion asked. Isaac looked at him and wondered if he needed to answer; his heart was racing.

“Yes,” Isaac said truthfully, although he was certain that Deucalion knew that already. “Yes, you do.”

“Good,” the Alpha-Omega said, “I’d call you a fool if I didn’t. I’m one of the most powerful werewolves in California and that’s even without my sight. I could destroy you with just one hand, you know.”

Isaac didn’t doubt it for a second.

“Now,” Deucalion continued, “You showed a lot of courage there. I could smell your fear and yet you took charge and ended up defeating a pair of Alphas. Admittedly, they are nothing compared to myself or Kali but that’s still an achievement in itself.”

Isaac didn’t know what was going on. This man was… praising him? Praising him for coming close to killing two members of his pack; it didn’t make sense. Well, Allison had been the one to nearly kill them, he’d only lured them to their fate but still, it made no sense.

“The thing about an Alpha Pack is that there’s no limit to the amount of people we can have around us,” Deucalion carried on. “You see, in a normal pack, the Alpha is under the constant threat of being mutinied against so he or she must keep numbers down to sustain their control and physical superiority to the rest.”

Isaac nodded. He could see where this was going; he was going to get a reminder of how all powerful Alpha packs were and how futile it was to fight against them. Deucalion raised and hand and pressed it onto Isaac’s shoulder. 

“In an Alpha pack, we’re all equal, so there’s no need for a mutiny. Therefore, we’re not limited in expansion,” Deucalion finished. “Tell me, Isaac, how would you like to join our pack?”

For a second, Isaac thought he had misheard but when Deucalion squeezed his shoulder and turned to face him, he knew he had heard correctly.  
“Me?” Isaac spluttered. “But, I’m not an Alpha. I couldn’t be in your pack.”

Deucalion smiled a wicked smile.

“You’re not an Alpha… yet,” he said still smiling and still warm but with a touch of something cold and evil in his voice. “Derek is in bad shape at the moment. You could take his position. Your ex-captive friends are going to die soon, I know it and they know it. Your other friend is leaving if what Master Hale says is to be believed. And the other one, Scott, your little love interest, he had rare natural potential. If you kill Derek, I could have you both.”

The Alpha-Omega let his words hang on the air for a moment. Although later he’d never confess to it, Isaac did think about it. Derek was in bad shape and the pack was in an even worse position. Erica and Boyd didn’t look great and Deucalion was confident that they wouldn’t survive. 

But then Isaac thought about everything else. The sense of family he’d felt with Derek since being turned; his odd friendship with Peter over the past few weeks; the home that he’d found within the walls of their apartment; the relationships that he’d developed with Stiles and Jackson and finally Scott. He thought about the way that he loved Scott more than anything in the world and how no matter what, he’d do all he could to avoid shaming him.

“No.”

The single word was quiet yet firm and Deucalion heard it. He cocked his head and looked at Isaac. Blind or not, Isaac could feel the eyes surveying him and it was not a comfortable experience.

“Very well,” Deucalion said, the warmth gone from his voice. Before Isaac could even sense the danger, a long and powerful arm shot out and connected with his abdomen. Isaac was on the floor before he could react.

He felt a boot connect with his side a few time and felt a crack as one or two or several of his ribs cracked – he couldn’t tell how many but it hurt like the fires of hell.  
“I think in time, you’ll come to regret that decision,” Isaac heard Deucalion say. He was beginning to drift out of consciousness.

His eyesight was going blurry but he could make out Deucalion’s face coming closer and closer towards him.

“Brace yourself,” he heard Deucalion whisper through a smile so definitive it could be heard in his words. “This may hurt.”

It took Isaac ninety seconds to black out after that moment. His breathing became more and more shallow and each breath was more of a struggle than the last. He felt his arm break and his ankle snap and he heard the left side of his collar bone implode under the pressure of a heavy stamp.

He didn’t know he was crying until he heard himself whimper as he hauled his broken skeleton onto its side. Deucalion’s grin swam in front of his eyes once again.

His nose exploded under the force of Deucalion’s kick. Isaac felt an odd feeling of calm set in as he edged closer and closer to unconsciousness. It reminded him of his first trip to the freezer. How he’d screamed and shouted and cried and bawled. And in the end, the darkness took him. He’d woken up on his bed, scarred for life and afraid and yet accompanied by a strange sense of power.

So when Isaac heard a zip and felt something warm cover his torso and face – it could have been blood, or water, or mud, or anything really, Isaac didn’t know; he barely recognized that it was liquid by this point – he thought of that sense of power and shut himself off. 

Isaac let the darkness take him.


	9. Past Pains and Present Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Although the blood flow didn’t slow at the appearance of his family, his tears did. 
> 
>  
> 
> And Isaac listened to the words and he felt the blows and he cried his tears and his father laughed.
> 
>  
> 
> “Scott, it’d be really cool if you could, you know,” he said, “Get to the point?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks ever so much for reading, I think this is my favourite chapter that I've written so far. I just want to apologize for all of the spelling errors in past chapters and any in this one. I don't have a beta and I always finish writing in the early hours so I skim read for the actual story but I don't look deeply for spelling an grammar.

_The room was barely big enough to fit in. Isaac stood, his body violently shaking, in the middle of the four walls so that he could put as much space as possible between him and his confines. Even standing dead in the middle, if he’d have stretched his arms out straight to the sides, he would have touched wall on both sides._

_The ceiling was high and yet, it appeared to be closing in on him with every passing second. Bats clung to it, while spiders climbed the wall to reach it so that they could hang down and inch closer to Isaac’s face._

_There was no door and no windows; there was no escape. Isaac had no choice but to watch as the ceiling closed in on him. He waited and hoped for rescue but none came. Isaac screamed and flung himself downwards and backwards when his hair touched the ceiling. His eyes clenched shut on impulse._

_When he opened them, he was lying on the ground facing the grey sky. He could hear himself sobbing._

_Isaac was five years old and the playground was his favourite place. But the ground was hard and wet and he’d had a nasty fall. The graze on his jaw stung as his tears rolled down over it._

_“Isaac? Are you okay?” A blonde woman stood over him. A boy approaching his teenage years and a moustachioed man stood behind her. From what he could see, they all looked concerned._

_Although the blood flow didn’t slow at the appearance of his family, his tears did. His mother moved aside so that his father could step forward and scoop Isaac up into his arms. He was small for his age so Joseph Lahey had no trouble in lifting him._

_Isaac saw Camden crane his neck to check on his little brother. The older sibling smiled when he saw that Isaac’s tears had stopped._

_“Isaac, that was so cool, you basically flew!” Camden said with a queer combination of lessening concern and building awe._

_“Yes, that’s enough Camden,” Joseph said, “He’s bleeding and dizzy, the last thing we need is for you to excite him.”_

_Isaac looked up at his father and smiled; he felt safe in his arms because he knew that while his father was there, he’d never come into any real harm. He wrapped his arms around his father’s neck and cuddled into the man’s body. His father tightened his arms, laughed and placed a soft kiss on Isaac’s forehead._

_“You’re okay, son,” Isaac’s father whispered into his ear. “As long as we’re here, you’ll always be okay.”_

_Isaac pressed his face into his father’s jugular. Joseph’s pulse beat into Isaac’s skin. The five year old boy closed his eyes._

_An eight year old Isaac Lahey opened his eyes. He’d dozed off in the waiting room with his brother and aunt while his parents went into see the doctor. It wasn’t his fault of course; his mom had woken him up way too early._

_Now, he was in the back of a silent car, wedged in between his Aunt Audrey and his brother Camden. His father, in the driver’s seat, looked angry, sad, confused and lost all at once like he’d lost his favourite teddy bear. His mother was in the front passenger seat, staring at something in her hands that Isaac couldn’t see._

_His Aunt had been crying – heavily, judging by her puffy red eyes – and his brother Camden still was; Isaac knew nothing of what was going on, so he stayed quiet._

_Trees, parks, fields, shops and houses passed. The landscape changed every minute; the silence, however, did not._

_When they got back to their house, Isaac’s father took him to the master bedroom of the home. He sat on the bed and beckoned Isaac over to him. The young boy_

_“Isaac, the doctor gave us some bad news,” he said. Isaac had never seen his father cry but he wouldn’t have been surprised if Joseph had broken down then. He looked close to doing so the whole time he spoke and everybody else seemed to be crying today._

_“Mommy is sick and the doctor said it’s very serious,” Mr Lahey said, his voice shaking. Even at his young age, Isaac knew that his daddy was trying to be brave so he reached out and grabbed his hand. Joseph responded with a sad smile and squeezed Isaac’s hand in his own. “It’s very, very serious. She might not –“_

_His voice quivered then and he stopped himself. Isaac looked up at him waiting for him to continue but he didn’t._

_“Why is mommy sick?” Isaac asked. He didn’t know what to say because whenever his mommy got sick, she just grumbled a little and went about as normal. She never even took time off work. He didn’t understand why it mattered so much that she was sick now._

_“I don’t know, son,” his daddy said, his resolve breaking and a single fat tear fell from his lashes. “But mommy is sick with a very nasty bug. She might have to go to heaven. I think she must be sick because God needs some new angels up there and mommy would be the most beautiful angel of them all.”_

_Isaac smiled, not realizing that his father meant that in a very short time, he’d almost certainly be motherless. How could he realize that? He was only eight, after all._

_“Mommy would be a very beautiful angel,” Isaac giggled as he imagined Marilyn with wings and a halo. “What is mommy sick with? Does she have a cold like I did?”_

_Mr Lahey looked at his son sadly, appreciating that the eight year old boy didn’t grasp the situation that fate had thrust him into. Camden had understood and had been left devastated but Isaac just seemed a little confused. Joseph had no choice but to explain._

_“No, son,” he said, and Isaac could see the tears forming in his daddy’s eyes as he spoke, “Mommy hasn’t got a cold. She has a horrible illness and she’s going to need us to all be very good and helpful and-” His voice hitched and the tears began to fall. “Mommy has an illness called breast cancer.”_

_Isaac’s worst birthday came when he turned ten. It had been just over a year since his father had told him about his mother’s cancer and now, Isaac knew all about it._

_He’d watched his mother’s condition deteriorate steadily over the course of fourteen months and there was nothing that he could do to help. Her treatment had been gruelling and it hadn’t even accomplished much. It had finally gotten to the point where there had been so little effect that the doctors discontinued the treatment._

_Isaac had visited her every day, more than anyone else. If his father couldn’t go, he’d go with Camden. If Camden couldn’t go, he’d go with an aunt. If none of his family could take him to see his mother, he’d take the bus and go alone. One time, when nobody accompanied him and he had no money, he talked a neighbour into driving and visiting with him._

_It was a Saturday, not long into September, and Joseph Lahey had dropped his son off at the hospital on his way to pick Camden up from his swimming club meet._

_Isaac spent his birthday sat on a chair next to his mother’s bed, talking to her as she laid there, a shell of her former self. Her hairless, frail body was riddled with tubes and she couldn’t even move without assistance._

_Isaac hadn’t grasped the situation when his father had told him what was going on. But he grasped it now._

_Isaac and his mother talked about meaningless things as the time passed. Isaac filled her in on how his first week of the fourth grade had been and Marilyn told him about all of the patients on her ward. They sat for hours together, just talking._

_When Joseph came to pick him up, Isaac begged him to let him stay. His father said that visiting hours would be over soon and they were coming back tomorrow as a family to see Marilyn anyway. He also needed to go and pick Marilyn’s sisters Audrey and Elizabeth up from the bus station and he couldn’t leave Isaac._

_The nurse in charge of the ward knew their family. She’d been Marilyn’s on call nurse for the whole time that she’d been in hospital. Melissa McCall was her name, and she told Joseph that Isaac could stay with Marilyn and that she’d keep an eye on them both. She told him that she’d drop Isaac home when her shift ended at 9pm. That gave Isaac another four hours with his mom._

_Joseph thanked her and told Isaac to be on his best behaviour. He left his mobile number and address for Melissa and departed after giving Marilyn a quick kiss and promising her that he’d be back with Camden as soon as visitation opened the next day._

_By 7pm, they’d ran out of things to talk about and Isaac sat holding Marilyn’s hand as she lay there, doing nothing. Even talking tired her out and she had no energy left for conversation anyway. The two shared a comfortable silence – well as comfortable as a silence can be between a ten year old boy and his exhausted, dying mother._

_She fell asleep just after 8pm and Isaac stayed in the chair, unmoving. Nurse Melissa McCall came to get him and take him home. When she entered Marilyn’s room, she found him sobbing into his unconscious mother’s hand._

_Isaac slept badly that night but he was still ready to go and visit his mother the next morning._

_Every week, when Sunday came, Isaac found himself full of love and energy and devotion to his mother. If she’d asked him to sit at her bedside for a week without sleeping, he would have done it._

_Joseph, Camden and Melissa McCall watched Isaac sadly as he tried to stay brave in front of his mom. Melissa had grown attached to Marilyn and she couldn’t hide her own emotions when it came to her new friend. Joseph and Camden spent half of every visit in tears and comforting each other. None of the three of them could work out how Isaac remained stoic in front of her._

_Every week, when Sunday came, Isaac’s tears would be put on hold from when the family entered the ward to when Marilyn fell asleep. Then he’d sob to himself in the knowledge that she couldn’t watch him cry._

_Every week, when Sunday came, Isaac put every other worry in his life aside for his mother. On his daily-visits, he’d bring homework or games or something to keep him amused when Marilyn was asleep or not talking much. But Sunday, he took nothing. His full, undivided attention was hers, awake or asleep, from his moment of arrival to the moment he left._

_Every week, when Sunday came, Isaac’s visit to see his mother mattered more than anything else in the entire universe. Every week that is, until the first Sunday of October came._

_Marilyn’s funeral was held on the second Sunday of October, exactly one week after she died._

_Isaac stood in a dark suit with his brother and father and aunts and cousins as his mother’s life was remembered and her death marked._

_Elton John’s_ Candle in the Wind _played as her coffin was lowered into the ground._

_Isaac was the last person left in the cemetery._

_With nobody around to see him, his tears had fallen from the eyelash cage that refused to let them free in the company of others._

_The family had fallen apart after Marilyn’s death. Joseph had become so reserved that he had begun to neglect his responsibilities towards Camden and Isaac._

_Camden spent most of his time out with friends away from the house because he and Joseph started to argue more and more often about things._

_Camden basically turned his back on the family. Joseph and Isaac could offer nothing to ease his grief so he abandoned them as often as he possibly could. Sometimes, he would be gone for days on end with no contact whatsoever._

_Joseph became more and more annoyed with Camden as time went on. His pain lessened at the loss of his wife but his grief and bitterness for the life that they had been robbed of together didn’t. And that’s when Joseph Lahey started getting angry._

_When Camden decided to go into the military, he didn’t even tell Isaac before his big reveal. Their relationship had completely crumbled since the death of their mother and Camden seemed to hate Isaac for something._

_In private, Joseph had said that he thought it was because Isaac had spent so much time dedicated to Marilyn while she was ill and Camden neglected to visit her as often as he could have and he was bitter because of it. And Joseph Lahey was a good judge of bitterness._

_Marilyn had been dead for three years. Isaac was thirteen and Christmas was approaching when Camden told them he intended to leave for the military._

_Joseph was absolutely furious. Isaac stood and watched as the two of them had had a massive stand-off. They shouted at each other and cursed and screamed. Punches and objects were thrown and by the end of it, Joseph had a gash along his jaw and Camden was sporting a bloodied nose and a swollen lip._

_Isaac’s older brother stalked out of the house and Joseph had followed him to slam the door on his eldest son._

_“I’m working tomorrow, I want you to come back here while I’m gone and move all of your fucking stuff out of my house,” Joseph had shouted. “If I ever see you again, it’ll be too soon.”_

_Joseph was still enraged when he and Isaac had sat back down to finish their food. Neither of them had much of an appetite after Camden’s bombshell but they both ate anyway. Isaac found himself treading on thin ice around his father for the rest of the meal._

_His plan to try and stifle his father’s anger backfired. Isaac volunteered to do all of the dishes and clear the kitchen but in his eagerness to calm his dad, he picked up a few too many plates and he couldn’t stop them from tumbling to the floor._

_A great crash reverberated around the kitchen and Joseph Lahey jumped to his feet, all the built up anger of the past three years coming to a head. He released it in a single, powerful punch aimed at Isaac._

_The sound of Isaac’s jaw snapping was almost as loud as his cry of shock._

_Joseph arranged Camden’s funeral alone. In the four years between his wife’s death and his son’s death, he’d turned from a good man and a loving father into an abusive, hateful bully. He showed no emotion while going through the necessary procedures in order to have his son buried compared to the broken shell of a man who’d buried his wife four years prior._

_Isaac’s father didn’t let him go to the funeral. He’d received a beating the night before and had been left bruised and Joseph refused to let him out in public._

_That night, Isaac snuck out and visited the cemetery alone._

_Joseph had had Camden buried next to Marilyn and Isaac cried for hours and hours that night atop his mother’s old grave and his brother’s newly filled grave._

_After that, he visited the cemetery every single day without fail, even if it meant sneaking out at night and risking a beating._

_Since the night of Camden’s funeral, Joseph had caught Isaac sneaking out at night three times and each time, his abuse had been worse than the time before._

_Isaac cowered as his father threw the first punch. Throughout all of the time that Isaac had lived with Joseph’s newfound violent tendencies, he’d never once hit back. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. No matter how many times that Joseph hit him Isaac knew that he’d never be able to strike back. He didn’t know why, he just knew that it was true._

_“You’re fucking pathetic,” Joseph snarled between blows._

_“My life would be better if you just went ahead and fucking died.”_

_“You should’ve left with your brother.”_

_“You’re sixteen, you worthless little cunt, you will pay to live here.”_

_“Your mother would be so ashamed of you.”_

_And Isaac listened to the words and he felt the blows and he cried his tears and his father laughed._

_Even at sixteen years old, Isaac was just as helpless as he was in that playground eleven years ago. The only difference was that when he was five, his father’s hand protected him from trouble. Now, his father’s hand caused him the pain._

_“Please,” Isaac choked out through shaky sobs and yelps of pain, “Stop, please.”_

_Joseph stopped throwing punches; instead he sent his knee into Isaac’s groin, causing his son to double over in pain. The sixteen year old boy fell to the floor and curled up into a ball._

_The last thing he saw before he closed his eyes was his father’s boot coming fast towards his body._

_The connection was painful and Isaac felt bones break. His arm and a rib were cracked on impact._

_When Isaac opened his eyes again, his attacker’s face had changed. He was no longer in his kitchen but instead on the floor of some lobby room of a bank building. His father didn’t stand above him any longer but instead he was being stood over by a blind man with a cane._

_The man pulled his leg back and swung it before Isaac felt his nose explode. The pain was unbearable, even for a werewolf and Isaac knew that his healing abilities wouldn’t cut it this time. He had no option but to give up._

_The split second before Isaac passed out, he heard a voice. It was a man’s voice, fierce and concerned and it shouted his name, just once._

_Isaac heard Scott’s shout and then he let the darkness take him._

 

Before he came around fully, Isaac lingered somewhere that was more than unconscious but less than conscious. He couldn’t move, speak or open his eyes but he was aware of voices around him and at times he could even hear what they were saying even if he couldn’t tell who they belonged to.

“…he went in alone…”

“…Deucalion was vicious…”

“…Scott risked his life for him…”

“Doc, is he going to be okay in the long run?”

“Isaac? Can you hear me?”

Waking up was not a fun experience for Isaac – his head was throbbing, his breathing was painful and he didn’t have the energy to move. His arm was strapped into something and whatever surface he was laid out on was cold and uncomfortable.

When he came around fully, it took Isaac a very long time to work out where exactly he was. The cold table beneath him and the smell of mistletoe and dying animals gave it away in the end though.

The veterinarian’s office was empty apart from two people. Isaac couldn’t see them but he could hear their separate heartbeats. He also wasn’t good enough with his hearing yet to work out whom they belonged to but he could tell that one was sleeping and one was not.

Isaac tried to say something but despite his newfound consciousness, he couldn’t quite form words. Luckily, the strangled groaning noise he made caught the attention of whoever was across the room.

Scott’s face came into view and his eyes widened.

“Oh my God, Isaac, you’re awake.” Just from the sound of his voice, Isaac could tell that he was absolutely exhausted; he wondered how long Scott had been without sleep. He wondered how long he himself had been out of it. “We were all so worried; I should have never left you in there with Deucalion alone. I’m so sorry, Isaac, I should have stayed with you.”

Although he couldn’t speak, Isaac found the strength to turn his head to face Scott and smile.

A chair was positioned next to the surgery table that Isaac was laid out on. Scott took it and pulled it as close to the table as he could possibly get. He moved around in his seat to get comfortable and he dropped his head to rest his chin on the table. His face was only a foot or so from Isaac’s when he stopped.

Isaac took the opportunity to look Scott’s face over. He had deep bags under his eyes and his eyelids were sagged as if he was doing his best to stay awake. He was squinting too; clearly he’d been awake for so long that his eyesight was weakening.

He had worry lines at the sides of his mouth and the sides of his eyes. He looked like he’d been frowning constantly for months, but the lines were made to look out of place by Scott’s slight smile. Clearly, he was concerned but the relief of seeing Isaac awake pushed the concern away. The thought warmed Isaac’s heart.

“I guess you’ve got a lot of questions, huh?” Scott asked. Isaac couldn’t respond with words but luckily, Scott was intelligent enough to recognize the grunt as affirmative confirmation. “Well you nearly died like four times since we got you here. Deaton says you’ll pull through now though. Your healing should kick in soon; he’s been feeding you some chemical through a tube that will make the process quicker too.”

Isaac lay there unmoving and said nothing. If he had been able to form words, he’d probably have been speechless anyway. He’d nearly died _four_ times? That isn’t something that happens to someone who’s only been out for a few hours.

“Nobody else got hurt getting you. I went in alone but Deucalion was already leaving. You looked so broken and small on the floor in there. I carried you out and we got you here as soon as possible. There’re a few things you should probably know about how I found you but I’m not going to tell you until you can talk. I want you to be able to stop me if you need me to.”

Isaac’s eyes widened. That sounded ominous to say the least.

“Oh, and I assume you want to know how long you’ve been out for, right?” Scott asked with his relieved smile still on his face.

Isaac managed to nod ever so slightly.

“Just over three days,” Scott said, “And I haven’t slept the whole time.”

_Shit that isn’t good,_ Isaac thought. _People don’t pass out for three days and then magically turn okay._

It then occurred to him that people might not but it sounded perfectly plausible for werewolves to pass out for three days and then magically turn okay. The thought made Isaac feel a little better.

Scott sat up and pulled a syringe from a shelf underneath the table. It was filled with a dark liquid.

“This is the chemical I was talking about but it’s mixed with a tranquilizer,” Scott informed Isaac, who looked more than a little apprehensive at the needle. “Dr Deaton told me to inject you with this when you woke up. It’ll make you sleep for about twelve hours and it’ll kick start the healing process. You’ll be able to talk and move when you wake up this time, I think.”

Isaac smiled a little. He was looking forward to being able to talk again; to be able to tell Scott how thankful he was that he carried him out and to wrap his arms around the shorter boy’s neck to prove his sincerity.

Scott leant over and delivered the injection. Isaac felt the chemical hit his system at the same time as the tranquilizer. It felt weird, like taking a shot of vodka with an energy drink mixer – the energy boost affecting the body at the same time as the sedative effects came into play.

Isaac closed his eyes and felt his body relaxing and sleep coming for him. Before he fell unconscious, he felt a warm weight press against his mouth and he realized that Scott was kissing him. It was light and tentative, but it was loving and wholesome and even with the tiredness and almost paralysis, it made Isaac shiver.

This time when the darkness came for Isaac, warmth came with it.

-

Scott was right; when Isaac came around the second time, he basically threw himself off of the surgery table. He found himself able to construct words and sentences again and in his eagerness to say something and exercise his ability to move freely, he totally missed that Scott was sat in the corner watching him.

“Having fun?” Scott asked as Isaac was in the middle of flailing in arms in a very Stiles-like manner. Isaac nearly jumped out of his skin and it dawned on him at that moment that he was wearing nothing but a sort of hospital gown.

“I’ve been unconscious for nearly four days, can you blame me?” Isaac asked, moving towards Scott.

Scott laughed and shook his head. He moved around the table to cut Isaac’s path off. Isaac rolled his eyes.

“Before we have a comical moment, I want to know,” Isaac said, getting to the point. He needed to know what had gone on and if he didn’t ask then he wouldn’t ever have done. Scott’s eyes were just too distracting. “I need to know what happened. You were going to tell me.”

Scott’s smiled faltered and he looked over to the entrance of the building, as if checking for eavesdroppers.

“I’ll tell you now then,” Scott said in an uncharacteristically firm voice. “But I’ll warn you, it’s not pretty. And you will be embarrassed.”

Isaac’s eyes widened and his eyebrows moved up to his forehead. He didn’t care about being embarrassed in front of anybody but Scott and clearly, Scott already knew the whole story. He shrugged.

 “Okay, shoot,” Isaac said.

“Right, okay,” Scott said. He hesitated as if searching for a place in the story to start but he seemed to come to the conclusion that just going for it was the best idea.

 “Look,” he said with a sigh, “When I found you, you were on the floor bleeding to death. Your clothes were ripped and you honestly looked like a murder victim. If I’d have waited ten minutes before coming in, you may well have actually been a murder victim.” He stopped and shook his head, clearly trying to banish the idea of Isaac becoming a murder victim.

Isaac reached out and grabbed Scott’s hand. With a little squeeze, he guided Scott to the surgery table and they both sat down.

“I don’t know why he did it but Derek thinks it was a territorial thing but Dr Deaton thinks it was more just to disrespect you. I don’t know which one is true but Derek’s idea seems right considering what the Alpha Pack is trying to do.”

Isaac looked bewildered.

“Scott, it’d be really cool if you could, you know,” he said, “Get to the point?”

Scott nodded.

“Well, whether you believe Derek or Deaton it doesn’t really matter but I think I’d agree with Derek and the whole territorial thing,” Scott continued. “Did he ask you about joining his pack by killing Derek or something like that?”

Isaac nodded solemnly; despite the fact that his memories of the hostage raid were hazy, he could definitely remember considering the idea of killing Derek to become and Alpha.

“It’s definitely the territorial thing then. I take it you said no?” Scott said. He didn’t wait for a response. “Of course you did, you wouldn’t have said yes to that. And if you had, I imagine you wouldn’t have gotten this sort of response.”

Isaac looked away in case Scott could read it on his face that he’d actually entertained the idea. But then it occurred to him that Scott was still seemingly avoiding the topic that Isaac wanted an answer on.

“Scott,” Isaac said, turning back to face him, “You still haven’t answered my question. What happened to me? How did you find me? Why are you finding it so difficult to tell me what was wrong?”

Scott sighed again.

“You know how dogs mark their territory right?” He asked. Isaac nodded, confused, and Scott continued. “Well, um, apparently, werewolves seem to do the same. Deucalion, um, pissed… on you; all over you.” The look on Scott’s face was almost apologetic. “I found you soaked in Deucalion’s piss.”

The silence between them for a split second was deafening. Isaac didn’t know how to respond to that but he could definitely understand why Scott had wanted to give him the option to stop listening. Now that he knew, Isaac didn’t think that he wanted to know.

“He… pissed on me?” Isaac asked, well aware that Scott had already confirmed that he’d been the one that carried Isaac out to safety.

Scott nodded and avoided Isaac’s eye.

“You carried me back.”

It wasn’t a question because Isaac knew that it was so and Scott knew that Isaac knew that it was so. It was a statement. It was enough to draw Scott’s attention back to his face.

“You carried me back despite the fact that I was drenched in piss,” Isaac said. He actually had to stifle a laugh; there weren’t many people in the world that he could say he would do that for. “Thank you.”

Scott smiled and put an arm around Isaac. Obviously, he thought that Isaac was going to be painfully humiliated or something. But what he didn’t realize what that someone can only take so much embarrassment before they become immune to the feeling. And Isaac was no stranger to embarrassment.

“Anytime,” Scott laughed.

The two of them sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Then Scott had an idea.

“Dr Deaton said that you could leave as soon as you wake up provided you’re supervised,” Scott said.

“Your point is…?” Isaac asked. Apparently his time unconscious had made him slow on the uptake.

“My point is, I can supervise you and you can come over to my place now and enjoy my mom’s double time shift at the hospital,” Scott smiled. “We could play video games and I’ll cook for you – I bet you’re starving.” His comment was met with a rumble from Isaac’s stomach. The two of them laughed. Then Scott’s face went serious. “We still need to talk too.”

“Okay,” Isaac said, trying not to get nervous at the last part. “I’d love to come over.”

Scott left the room to call a cab and returned with a pair of sweatpants and a jacket. They were hardly the height of fashion but they were better than the alternative of riding a taxi wearing a hospital gown.

The offer of clothes did remind Isaac of something that he’d wondered when he realized he was almost naked.

“Um, Scott,” Isaac said almost sheepishly. “Did you clean me?”

“Yeah, I did,” Scott nodded, rubbing his neck. Apparently he was a little awkward about it too. “I changed you as well. I thought you’d rather me touch your naked, piss soaked body than have Derek or Jackson do it.”

Isaac nodded in agreement but he couldn’t hold his anxiety in.

“You saw me naked?” 

“Yeah, I did,” Scott said in the same tone as before, but then he turned around with a devilish grin and a wink. “Congratulations, by the way. I was impressed; you kept _that_ a secret.”

Isaac flushed scarlet.


	10. Meat Lover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, hey,” Scott said soothingly, whispering so as to not hurt Isaac’s eardrums with his voice from such close proximity. “You’re okay, breathe in.”
> 
>  
> 
> They pulled away from each other breathless after a while. The kiss had lasted for both a second and a lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little later than I thought I'd update but I've been seriously busy. Also, everyone see the last two episodes right? Alpha Pact last night was good but The Overlooked last week was seriously my all time favourite episode of Teen Wolf. It just gets better. Thanks for reading!

As Scott had promised, his home was deserted when they came through the front door. Scott had said that Melissa was working a double shift at the hospital and that they’d have the house to themselves for hours.

They’d taken the journey from the veterinarian’s office to Scott’s house at a slow pace. It was a good job too, considering Isaac could barely manage to walk without feeling dizzy. After less than a mile, Isaac was stumbling along with his arm draped over Scott’s shoulder and not long after, he began to require frequent pauses to catch his breath. Scott carried him on his back for the last half a mile.

Admittedly, Isaac probably could have managed the last quarter of a mile on his feet but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from Scott’s back and his intoxicating aroma. So he stayed there on the receptive end of a piggy-back, breathing his friend’s scent in.

Scott hadn’t seemed to have minded much, so Isaac didn’t see anything wrong with allowing himself a little luxury. After all, he’d had a rough week.

The house was cool compared to the warm summer’s air outside. The sound of an air conditioning system caught the attention of Isaac’s ears like music.

Scott crouched down a little to minimize the impact of Isaac’s drop from his back. Not that Isaac needed it; his height ensured that he only had an inch or two to drop but he appreciated Scott’s effort to avoid causing him discomfort, even in small ways.

Isaac followed Scott into the kitchen. He was clutching at his ribs as they’d begun to pain him again. Who knew healing could be so painful?

He pulled a chair out from under the dining table and sat down on it, looking over at Scott who was reading a note from his mother.

“Hey,” Scott said when he’d finished reading the note, “Do you like pizza?”

“Does anybody not?” Isaac asked; he’d never in his life met somebody who didn’t like pizza.

“Just checking,” Scott replied, turning around with the note in one hand and a twenty dollar bill and what looked like a Pizza Hut coupon in the other. “Mom left money for me to get takeout. How does an extra-large Meat Lover’s sound?”

It sounded absolutely wonderful to Isaac. He hadn’t eaten in what? Four days? He’d probably manage an extra-large Meat Lover’s on his own. He nodded his assent.

“Awesome,” Scott said. He fished his cell phone out of his pocket and left the room to make the order.

Isaac could hear every word – including Scott’s added request of garlic bread – but he found himself preoccupied with taking in his surroundings.

He’d been inside the kitchen only once before, and that was when Derek had sent him to try and kill Lydia. That hadn’t been the right time to stop and admire Melissa McCall’s decorating skills. The colours on the walls blended perfectly with those of the furniture, cupboards and counters. The artexed ceiling and the tiled floor contrasted in a way that only complimented them both.

For a house with only two residents, it seemed awfully big to Isaac. But then, after his mother and brother had died, his own house had been far too empty and spacious for only him and his father to live in. The memory made him wonder if the McCall family had ever gone through similar hardship.

He caught his mind wandering off into unknown territory when his eyes came to rest upon a collage of photographs on the refrigerator.

There were about fifteen of them in total; Scott was in all but two of them. Stiles and Allison made an appearance as well. Isaac wondered if he’d ever made a big enough impact on somebody’s life to end up with his picture stuck to their fridge. He doubted it.

In the two of the images that Scott didn’t stand in, Melissa was in male company. In one of the photographs, she was in a wedding dress, sporting a huge pregnancy belly, next to two men who could only have been her groom and vicar. In the other, she stood with an arm around Sheriff Stilinski.

Isaac had wondered for a while if there was something between the parents of his two friends. He hoped that there was; they both deserved to be happy. And Stiles and Scott deserved a full family each.

Just by looking at the thirteen or so pictures that did include Scott, Isaac was able to imagine what Scott had looked like at all points in his life.

 Most of the pictures of Scott were taken when he was fairly young. About eight of them sported a pre-pubescent Scott. A young Stiles accompanied a six year old Scott (Isaac could tell by the birthday boy badge on Scott’s chest) in a picture that made Isaac laugh out loud.

The picture showed the two of them sat in front of a birthday cake. Scott looked on the verge of tears while Stiles was grinning from ear to ear. Six candles sat atop the birthday cake and they looked like they’d only just been extinguished. It didn’t take a genius to work out what had happened: Stiles had blown them out and Scott wasn’t happy about it.

The rest of the young pictures were typical; holiday snaps, poses with family and even an adorable baby photo in which Scott was wearing a bright pink bonnet. Isaac stored the image away safely in his mind for future teasing reference.

However, the five photos of Scott that looked as if they’d been taken after his tenth birthday were the ones that Isaac really looked at. The five were side-by-side at the bottom of the collage.

The first picture was of a euphoric looking Melissa wearing her hospital scrubs. By her side, Scott was beaming. Isaac judged he was about eleven or twelve years old at the time. Isaac reckoned that the picture was taken on the day that Melissa had started work at Beacon Hills Hospital.

The second picture showed a thirteen year old Scott sporting a white cast on his arm. Isaac knew the story behind it. Scott had fallen out of a tree and broken his arm in two places. He could remember Scott coming into school the week after and telling anyone that would listen about how big the needle had been for his painkiller. Isaac also remembered that his first conversation ever with Scott was when the floppy haired, excited teenager had asked him to sign the cast in a math lesson.

The third picture was taken inside the veterinarian’s office. Scott and Dr Deaton were stood behind a puppy that was lying on the surgery table. Its leg was fixed in a splint. Deaton didn’t usually allow any cameras or phones in the working room so it must have been a special occasion; Scott’s first day, perhaps, or his first successful surgery.

The fourth picture had been taken at a house that Isaac didn’t recognize. Scott was lying on a couch fast asleep. Three little girls were lying on or next to him, also asleep. Isaac guessed that they were cousins or relatives of some sort. The photo was adorable. The weird sense of jealousy that Isaac felt of the little girls was less adorable.

The fifth and final picture was fairly recent. It was of Scott and Allison before the formal that they’d attended together. As much as he hated her, Isaac had to admit that Allison looked beautiful. But she was nothing on Scott. Suits were definitely made for him.

Isaac had also been there that night but he had been dateless, of course. He remembered sitting alone a lot and wearing his suit jacket for the whole of the irritatingly humid night in order to hide an ugly bruise that ran the length of his arm.

The photos were like a timeline of Scott’s life and Isaac felt strangely honoured to have been able to see them. He was rarely allowed this sort of insight into somebody’s private life.

“Isaac?”

His attention was pulled from the photographs by the sound of his name being called. Scott had come back into the room and was leant against the wall in the doorway smirking. He’d been watching Isaac look at the photographs.

“The pizza will be here in under an hour,” Scott said, “Do you want to come through and we can stick a film or play a game while we wait?”

“Sure,” Isaac said, lifting himself from the chair and slowly crossing the kitchen to the hallway. Scott waited for him at the bottom of the staircase and moved back to let Isaac up first. The whole way up the stairs, Scott’s hand didn’t leave Isaac’s back. If Isaac hadn’t been struggling to stay upright, he would’ve focused all his attention on the hand.

When they got to the top, Isaac had to pause and catch his breath. During the healing process, everything became a massive task and he was fatigued. Scott wrapped an arm around his shoulders and leant in close to hold Isaac while he bent double and sucked in oxygen.

Isaac was engulfed in sudden warmth and he inhaled sharply out of surprise.

“Hey, hey,” Scott said soothingly, whispering so as to not hurt Isaac’s eardrums with his voice from such close proximity. “You’re okay, breathe in.”

Isaac did as he was told and he was soon breathing normally enough to carry on the journey to Scott’s room. Instead of moving ahead of him though, Scott stayed at his side with an arm still around his shoulders.

The two of them moved into Scott’s bedroom and Isaac collapsed onto the bed. Scott moved over and crouched down so that their faces were a foot apart.

“Comfortable?” He asked.

“Very,” Isaac replied with a content smile. The stairs had taken a lot out of him.

“Well that’s too bad,” Scott said and he rolled Isaac over. Then, he kicked his socks and shoes off and jumped down next to him on the bed.

Isaac looked at him with a feigned irritated expression on his face but the look completely dissolved when his gaze met Scott’s puppy dog eyes.

Scott smiled back at him and Isaac’s stare was drawn down to his lips. Two puffy red lips, and God they looked so _soft._

Then, Isaac felt a smile grow on his own face and he looked back up into Scott’s eyes – the same eyes that were looking down at Isaac’s lips. Isaac leant forward.

The kiss lasted a few seconds and Isaac didn’t think of anything in the time that his lips were touched to Scott’s apart from the fact that Scott kissed him back.

Isaac rolled onto his back and Scott pulled away. His heart missed a beat but then he looked at the breathless smile plastered on Scott’s face and he knew that he had nothing to worry about.

“I just think we should talk first,” Scott said through heavy breaths, his chest rising and falling quickly, in time with his audible heartbeat. “You know; about everything.”

Isaac nodded and pushed himself up into a sitting position. His heart was hammering against his rib cage as if it were trying to free itself.

Scott looked as if he were wrestling with himself in his mind. At times he looked as if he’d stumbled upon the correct thing to say but then he shook his head and that pained but concentrated look reappeared on his face.

“I’ve been so confused for so long,” Scott began eventually, finally deciding on what would be the best words to start such an awkward conversation. “I’ve been wondering about my feelings for Allison and my feelings for you.”

Isaac remained silent. What had started off so promising now had a shadow of doubt hanging over it; no good things came from mentioning Allison Argent in a conversation about feelings.

“Allison and Lydia always talk about getting you a girlfriend. I think Lydia’s joking and Allison said she needed to hook you up so you’d be busy all the time and she wouldn’t have to look at you.” Scott shrugged apologetically. “And yet, whenever I heard them say anything about it, I always got kind of angry. I’d go as far to say that I got jealous.”

Isaac’s heart surged and judging by the flicker of a smile on Scott’s face, he heard it.

“I’ve loved Allison for so long. Since back when I was nobody. When I got the bite, she helped me adjust; she was my anchor and she helped me through everything without knowing it. I know how much you hate her but there’s a side of her that’s so tender and loving and it was that side that she showed me.”

Isaac looked into Scott’s face to read his expression. It was the expression of somebody who was reminiscing, but not necessarily feeling nostalgic. Isaac’s hope levels surged again.

“But then I met you and you’ve been nothing but wonderful. When we ended, you were there to help me through it. We never got back together, but we were on our way to it and then we went in to save Erica and Boyd…”

Isaac was a little confused as to why Scott felt the need to bring up their ex-kidnapped friends in a conversation about feelings. But he didn’t comment.

“After Deucalion had beaten you up, I was the one who found you. I came back in alone because I was worried about how long you’d taken. That’s when I saw your body.”

Scott stopped and he took a deep breath. It looked like he was biting his lip. Isaac was a little confused for a second before he realized: Scott was trying to stop himself from crying at the memory of Isaac’s unconscious, broken body.

Isaac reached out a hand and flattened Scott’s hair affectionately. The smaller teen leant into his touch and smiled a little. Isaac’s hand fell and came to rest on his shoulder. There it stayed.

When Scott continued speaking, his voice was shaky.

“You were lifeless. I thought you were dead until I got right up close to you. You were so small and broken and you were covered in blood and piss and I didn’t know what to do.”

Scott stopped again. A tear had escaped from behind his eyelashes and he wiped it away. It was only a matter of time before he lost all control.

“It was that moment when I realized,” Scott continued, his voice lowering with each syllable. “I realized that I can’t live without you, Isaac. I thought that I liked you. But it is so much more than that. I care about you and your welfare and your life. Every time I see you, it brightens my day and even when you’re shouting at me, I can’t help but think how much of a great guy you are.”

Isaac’s lip trembled. Honest compliments weren’t something he came by very often.

“When I carried your body out of there, all I could think was ‘please don’t die’ over and over and over again,” Scott’s voice was barely a whisper now. Isaac didn’t struggle to hear though; even without his werewolf abilities, he was hanging on every single word. “When you woke up in Dr Deaton’s office, I – well, I don’t think I’ve been happier than I was in that moment at any point in my life.”

Scott cleared his throat and looked at a fixed point on the carpet. He was avoiding Isaac’s eye for some reason – maybe out of feeling awkward, maybe out of trying to hide his tears, Isaac didn’t know – but there wasn’t a fraction of a second that passed in which the taller teen doubted the validity of Scott’s words.

“I told Allison,” Scott’s voice sounded strong again. There was a tremble hiding somewhere underneath the sound but the sadness had passed. Isaac wasn’t dead, he wasn’t going to die. Not any time soon anyway. Scott met his gaze once again, his tears successfully being pushed back.

“I told Allison,” he repeated. “I told her everything. I told her about how thankful I am to her. I told her how I feel about her. I told her how I feel about you. I even told her that we’d kissed. And she turned and looked me in the eye and said that she’d forgive me for everything if I came to you and told you that nothing between us can happen again.”

Isaac’s heart sank. After all of this, after his hopes had been raised continuously, Scott was going to go with Allison. Isaac felt a tear of his own fall down his cheek but before he could reach a hand to wipe it away, Scott had already done so. Scott didn’t pull his hand back, it just hovered on Isaac’s jaw.  Isaac avoided eye contact.

“I told her I didn’t want her forgiveness because I’m not sorry. We weren’t together when I kissed you so I did nothing wrong.”

Isaac looked back up questioningly.  Why was Scott telling him this if he was just going to go ahead and break his heart afterwards? What did he hope to achieve from that?

“’If you don’t want my forgiveness then what do you want?’ She said. I told her that I wanted her to understand,” Scott said. His smile had returned and he cupped Isaac’s face with both of his hands. “’I want you to understand,’ I told her, ‘You made me make the decision. I want to be with Isaac.’”

Now, Isaac Lahey had never been one for believing in sayings. But he would have sworn that in that moment, his heart was physically in his throat. He could feel the blood pumping through his body and it shocked him into silence almost as much as Scott’s final sentence.

Isaac just stared. There was nothing else that he could do. Scott’s speech had rendered him, well, speechless.

“Me?” Isaac asked. It was all he could say before his tongue became useless once again.

Slowly, Scott nodded. And then the space between them disappeared.

Isaac and Scott had kissed a few times before. They’d always been careful and explorative and calm and soft. This was different.

This kiss was fire in the winter. It was the sunrise on a dark morning. It was passionate and rough and there were tongues and fondling and saliva and biting. Tongues battled for dominance and their teeth clashed once or twice. It was no movie kiss. It was sloppy and wet and rough and Isaac even dribbled at one point. But nothing in his life had ever made Isaac feel more alive.

They pulled away from each other breathless after a while. The kiss had lasted for both a second and a lifetime.

“Isaac,” Scott said, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

-

Of all the movies and games in his room, Scott was pretty insistent that they watch one of his South Park DVDs. Isaac hated the show with a passion but he didn’t argue; he was far too happy for that. In fact, he was so happy that some of the fart jokes and slapstick comedy actually became funny to him.

They managed an episode and a half before the pizza came. Eating was a much more fun affair.

The two of them fed each other pizza and garlic bread and sipped from each other’s cans of Coca Cola (Isaac’s was vanilla flavoured, Scott’s was not) whilst laughing and arguing over whether South Park was actually funny or not. Isaac’s argument against was pathetically unconvincing because his newfound happiness caused him to laugh at half of the jokes.

When the pizza and South Park were both finished, the two of them curled up under the sheets of Scott’s bed. They were both still clothed but the layer of fabric that covered them gave the experience a much more intimate feel.

Whenever Isaac had imagined himself in a relationship, he’d always pictured himself as the one holding the other. He’d always thought that his girlfriend (or, in more recent fantasies) his boyfriend would be the one lying on him or cuddling into him.

However, he found that he loved curling into Scott’s side and fitting himself around the other boy’s body so much more than having Scott lie against him. He was taller than Scott by a good amount but that didn’t stop him automatically falling into the category of what people always seemed to assume was ‘the girl’ of the relationship.

He buried his face in the crook of Scott’s shoulder for a little while, just breathing him in. The scent started off normally but then he had a sudden flash of inspiration and flicked his tongue along Scott’s skin and the scent was clouded by a thick wave of arousal.

The two boys found themselves looking at each other intently. Their mouths came together as if pulled by gravity and someone shifted one way and someone else the other and various movements were made and suddenly Isaac was straddling Scott and they were both topless.

He was a little surprised by the sudden turn of events but he found himself leaning down to kiss Scott’s body as much as he possibly could.

Isaac wanted his lips to feel as much of Scott as he possibly could get to. He wanted to kiss and bite and suck every single centimetre of skin on his frien- ahem, lover’s body.

Taking it into his mouth, Isaac used his tongue to play with Scott’s nipple. He bit and sucked and licked exactly how he wanted to. Scott fucking _loved_ it.

“Jesus,” he moaned, “Fuck.”

Isaac began to move down Scott’s body, dragging his teeth and tongue along his muscular torso. He stopped at the waistband of Scott’s jeans.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Scott asked apprehensively, as if there was a genuine part of him that believed that Isaac hadn’t been dreaming of this moment for months.

“Of course,” Isaac smiled as he unbuttoned the jeans and pulled them off.

Scott had always looked beautiful to Isaac. He’d looked beautiful as a thirteen year old asking him to sign his cast for his broken arm. He’d looked beautiful as a sixteen year old from across the dance floor at the school formal. Every second that passed, Scott looked beautiful. But he had never looked as beautiful to Isaac as he did in that moment with his erection (that Isaac had completely 100% caused) pressing against the material of his tight underwear.

Isaac took the fabric in his mouth and made sure that he formed unblinking eye contact as he pulled Scott’s underwear off with his teeth.

Moving back up, he _finally_ got to see what Scott looked like naked. It was glorious.

His uncircumcised penis protruded from a mess of trimmed, but unshaven pubic hairs. Scott was somewhere between six and seven inches fully hard. He was fairly thick and he ran completely straight. Whereas his jawline was a little off centre, Scott’s cock could have been chiselled out of stone.

Isaac moved backwards into a more comfortable kneeling position off of the bed. He pulled Scott by the thighs so that he hung off the end. Isaac placed himself between his lover’s thighs.

He couldn’t help but giggle a little at the sight of Scott’s penis flapping about as he pulled him. In his defence, it was the first time he’d ever seen a cock outside of the internet and his own with an erection. Luckily, he managed to pass it off as a giggle of nervousness.

Scott pushed himself up into a seating position and ran a finger through Isaac’s hair.

“It’s okay, don’t be nervous,” he murmured. “It’s not difficult.”

“And you’d know would you?” Isaac replied, wrapping a hand around it and moving closer whilst sizing it up.

“No,” Scott admitted, “But I do intend to find out soon.”

Isaac flushed and he wanted to hide it. So he went the only way he could. Forward.

He took Scott into his mouth and was rewarded with a gasp and a more than slightly noticeable shudder.

Isaac didn’t know much about giving blow jobs, but he knew the basics. He bobbed up and down on Scott’s cock. Isaac flicked his tongue around the head whenever he came up and sucked a little to create pressure whenever he went back down.

He got himself into a good rhythm and Scott seemed to love it. He twisted his head as he went and moved his tongue around. He knew it was nowhere near the greatest blowjob ever but for a first attempt, Isaac was very proud of himself. Especially as he made Scott come in only a few minutes.

Scott had begun to thrust into Isaac’s mouth when he came close to the edge. He’d warned Isaac when he was teetering on the very edge and when Isaac made no attempt to move, he’d shot four long streams of his semen down the other boy’s throat.

Isaac sucked it dry and moved back up to meet Scott’s mouth. He hovered just above him.

“For a first time,” Scott said, “That was fucking incredible.”

And then he planted his lips on Isaac’s. The two kissed for a while before Isaac was flipped onto his back and Scott moved to reciprocate.

“Scott, stop,” Isaac said. As much as he wanted Scott, he didn’t want to do everything in one night. And the energy burst that had come with the pizza had been taken out of him in the act of giving a blow job. “Can we just, you know, sleep?”

Scott smiled.

“Sure,” he said, “But I’m not putting my clothes on.”

The two of them moved under the covers and cuddled in together. Scott’s curtains had been drawn so the room was dark.

Scott took the role of the ‘big spoon’ and Isaac loved the feeling of security that he received along with Scott’s arm around his body.

Isaac was almost asleep when he was pulled to attention by the sound of Scott’s unnecessarily loud message tone informing them both that someone was trying to contact him.

“I can ignore that,” Scott said, nuzzling the back of Isaac’s neck and blowing softly onto it. Isaac shivered.  

“No,” Isaac replied, “It could be important. I’ll still be here when you get back.”

Scott sighed and slid out of the bed. Isaac followed his naked body’s path to his jeans at the end of the bed. When Scott bent over to pick them up, Isaac felt his cock harden a little again. He waited for Scott to put the phone down and come back and engulf him in warmth again. Scott did neither.

Instead he stood in the same position for a long time, unmoving, seemingly reading and rereading the message over and over again.

“Scott,” Isaac said hesitantly, not knowing if he wanted to know. “What’s wrong?”

It took Scott an age to reply. So long in fact, that had he taken another second or two, Isaac would have gotten up and taken the phone from him to read the message himself.

“Isaac,” Scott said in a hoarse voice. “Boyd’s dead.”

 


	11. Post-Mortem Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to rescue you,” Peter said, his voice taking on a rare note of sincerity. Mixed in with the ubiquitous sarcastic drawl, it sounded misplaced. “But everybody seems to forget that I have died before. That’s something I don’t plan on doing again and putting myself in front of a pack of Alphas isn’t going to keep me going for very long.”
> 
>  
> 
> “It’s great to see you up and about. I came to see you in the vet’s a few times but you were seriously out of it. Except that one time you woke up and started saying how you love McCall and you want to ride that like a pony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week is a busy one for me; I have to do holiday shopping and collect my GCSE results and on Thursday I'm going to the Reading Festival for the long weekend (which I am MASSIVELY excited about) so I probably won't get the chance to update until at least the middle of next week. I've been updating every Monday to coincide with the new episode but with the mid-season finale tonight, I have no incentive to do that any more. I start college soon so the workload might make it too difficult to upload as regularly as I have been but I will do my utmost best to keep it coming as often as possible. Once again, many thanks for reading and I hope you're all enjoying the story!

Isaac was exhausted to the point of passing out. His body needed to shut itself off and recover more than anything. He needed days of rest and weeks of pushing his body back to the health that it had been before he’d gone to the bank.

But he couldn’t. Not after what Scott had told him. Boyd was dead.

He clutched Scott’s waist for dear life for the whole journey. Isaac had never been a fan of being a passenger on a motorcycle because it was uncomfortable but with the small amount of strength he possessed in his post-comatose state, it was physically demanding as well.

The journey from Scott’s house to Derek’s apartment would normally have taken about ten minutes on the bike but by the time they arrived at the high rise building, they’d been riding for over half an hour.

Scott had driven it slower than normal to make it as easy as possible for his passenger. He’d also stopped four times so that Isaac could strengthen his position on the seat. In addition to that, every single pair of traffic lights (no exaggeration) on the journey had flashed red just before they’d reached them.

Stiles was waiting outside of the building for them, his usually hyperactive personality mollified by the thick fog of sadness that surrounded them. Isaac knew that Stiles couldn’t smell the solemn stench in the air but he also know that he could feel it.

Scott parked as close to the entrance as he could possibly get without mounting the sidewalk. He slid off the bike and put his arms around Isaac to lift him off the seat. A spark of electricity ran through Isaac’s body before it was ruined by Stiles coming to assist with his dismount.

Stiles took Isaac’s full weight for a minute as Scott locked the steering on his bike and fixed it to the bicycle stands.

Isaac slung an arm around Scott’s shoulder when he moved back next to him and the other around Stiles’s and the three of them moved into the building. They entered the elevator and ascended in silence.

The front door of Derek’s apartment was ajar so they didn’t wait for somebody to collect them. When the door was pushed wide open, Isaac’s nostrils were attacked by a wave of such a thick melancholy odour that his wolfish instincts wailed and he released a high pitched whine. Scott’s comforting fingers curled into his waist and Isaac felt warmth momentarily flooded his body. The sensation soon passed, but the comfort it brought with it stayed.

The lounge area was almost always filled with training equipment but when Isaac, Scott and Stiles entered, there wasn’t so much as a trace of sweat inducing machinery. Instead, a table stood where a rack of weights had been and atop it was a wooden box about seven feet long in length and three feet wide. It didn’t take a genius to guess what was in it.

Derek and Dr Deaton came over to greet the three of them but Isaac ducked around them and moved over to the couch. He dropped down and pulled Erica into the tightest hug he’d ever given.

Once upon a time, when they’d first been turned, Erica had been like a sister to Isaac. They’d spent all of their time in Beacon Hills High together and outside of school, they’d been just as inseparable. After Erica had been turned and before Boyd had joined the pack, they’d been each other’s only friend.

When Boyd had come into the picture, Erica had gravitated towards him as Isaac’s own relationship with Scott (and by extension, Stiles) developed. They’d still been close, but nowhere near as close as they had been before Boyd’s transition.

During the full moon when they’d been locked up in the abandoned rail depot, it had been Isaac, not Boyd or Derek, who had restrained Erica when she broke free from her chains.

When Erica and Boyd had first been kidnapped, Isaac had searched for hours and hours every night in the hope of catching even a whiff of their scent. He’d never been successful.

The history between Erica and himself amplified Isaac’s innate need to help people. She was somebody who he could not see suffer. And she clearly needed him there. Isaac’s personal relationships may have developed over time but without Boyd, Erica only had him. So he was there for her.

She turned her head and pressed her sobbing eyes into Isaac’s sweater and he cradled her head and rocked her back and forward.

“Hey, hey,” he said in the most soothing whisper he could muster, “It’s okay. I’m here, Erica, you’re safe.”

She didn’t reply but Isaac could tell from the increasing amount of fluid that was leaking through his clothes to wet his skin that she hadn’t stopped crying.

Isaac pressed his forehead into her hair. It was affectionate and it was empathetic but mostly, it was him showing her that he was there and he wasn’t going anywhere. The gesture seemed to calm her a little.

“…because of me…”

Isaac gripped her tighter, disbelieving that Erica could possibly think that Boyd’s death was her fault.

They stayed in the same position while people moved around them, her sobbing gradually slowing until eventually it stopped and her heartbeat slowed right down. Within minutes of her tears stopping, Erica was asleep. Isaac moved away as slowly and as carefully and as silently as he possibly could. He positioned a pillow under her head before pulling off his thick sweater and covering her with it.

Isaac moved back over to where Scott stood with Stiles, Deaton and Derek. In the time that Isaac had been with Erica, they’d been joined by Peter.

“You were curiously absent when I was being beaten to a pulp,” Isaac said, surprised at how cold his own tone was. Judging by Scott and Deaton’s reactions, he wasn’t the only one. Peter, however, smiled and inclined his head.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to rescue you,” Peter said, his voice taking on a rare note of sincerity. Mixed in with the ubiquitous sarcastic drawl, it sounded misplaced. “But everybody seems to forget that I have died before. That’s something I don’t plan on doing again and putting myself in front of a pack of Alphas isn’t going to keep me going for very long.”

Isaac had to admit that he had a point.

Peter clapped a hand on Isaac’s shoulder and looked him dead in the eye. He spoke with a tone that Isaac had only heard Peter talk in once before, in the hallway of Derek’s apartment building on the night that Isaac first kissed Scott. It was a tone of concern.

“Honestly,” Peter said, “It’s good to see you up and moving. You gave us a fright, don’t do that again. Some of us might be able to come back from the dead but I don’t think you’ll be able to. So don’t get yourself killed before you get the chance to enjoy life with your boyfriend over there.”

Peter stalked away in typical dramatic fashion. Deaton and Derek glanced at each other, both with confused expressions on their faces. Scott and Isaac both flushed and avoided the eye of everybody. Stiles’s eyes widened and his mouth worked furiously, quicker than he could possibly form proper words.

“Oh my God,” Stiles eventually managed to say, his eyes flicking between Scott and Isaac while a grin grew on his face. “Is he serious?”

Isaac reddened further but from the corner of his eye, he saw Scott nod a little. His heart did a backflip. Scott had just acknowledged that they were boyfriends publicly. They hadn’t even discussed _what_ was going on between them but Scott was comfortable calling Isaac his boyfriend. Well not exactly calling him it, but it was close enough.

The jubilation was quickly drowned by a feeling of guilt; Boyd had just died and here he was silently celebrating that Scott and he were officially a thing. He felt awful about it. Luckily, neither Stiles nor Derek or Deaton pressed them any further so Isaac was able to turn the attention back to their dead pack member to assuage his guilty feeling.

“So, um, how did it happen?” Isaac asked, “Boyd, I mean.”

Derek looked away uncomfortably and it was Deaton who answered. The veterinarian/werewolf doctor/supernatural encyclopaedia was stoic at the worst of times. In the wake of Boyd’s death, he had a stronger face on than anyone, even Peter.

“He’d begun to recover well enough and he was going to pull through,” he said. His voice was emotionless. “But then Erica took a bad turn. She was going to die; there was nothing I could do. It was too much for her. He took her pain away and absorbed it into his own body. “

Deaton paused and looked over at Erica observantly as if looking for any tells that she was feigning sleep. Derek, Isaac and Scott could all hear her slowed heart rate and they knew that she wasn’t feigning anything, that she was really asleep. After a moment, Deaton carried on.

“Her pain combined with his own was too much for Vernon. The added pain sent him into shock and he fell comatose. He died minutes later. Erica was unconscious the whole time, but her condition stabilized when he took her pain.”

Again, Deaton paused. For the first time, emotion flickered onto his face and Isaac thought he could detect sadness in his eyes. Those eyes that were wise beyond their years were grieving for the loss of innocent life.

“Erica doesn’t know that Vernon gave his life for her,” Deaton said, his voice little more than a whisper. “I told him what would happen to him but he did it anyway. He willingly died to save her.”

Deaton let his words hang on the air as the four of them stood in shock as they absorbed this new information. None of them moved to speak, so Deaton saved them from the inevitable silence that would have followed.

“I take it you have a few questions about what happened to you,” he said to Isaac.

Isaac nodded and looked at Scott a little desperately. He did want answers but he was still a little wary about talking about what had happened to him. Unquestioningly, Scott moved right beside Isaac and gripped his hand tight. It gave Isaac the confidence to go on and get the answers he so desired.

“Deucalion – he seemed like their leader – said something about mountain ash being controlled and that some people are immune to its effects,” Isaac said. “Is that true?”

Deaton tilted his head and contemplated the question for a minute before answering. He didn’t look like somebody who was thinking about what to divulge, more like somebody who was deciding on what to withhold.

“I suppose it’s important that I tell you about mountain ash,” Deaton said. “It can be controlled by people called emissaries. These emissaries are the link between the supernatural world of a werewolf pack and the natural world of herbs and medicines. I am an emissary myself. Or, rather, I was. I was the emissary to the pack of Talia Hale, Derek’s mother.”

Isaac and Scott looked towards Derek in unison and were greeted by a nod.

“My sister, Marin, is the emissary to somebody that you’ve already met; Deucalion. He was not always like he is now. Once, a long time ago, he was a very benevolent man. Talia took him under her wing as a sort of protégé. After her death, he turned. As far as I know, Marin still works for him. And, I assume, by extension, the alpha pack.”

Isaac glanced at Scott who looked confused. Evidently, he had no idea that Deaton had a sister.

 _To be fair,_ Isaac thought, _if I had a sister and she worked for an evil psychopath like Deucalion, I wouldn’t really talk about her either._

“When we were younger and just beginning to learn the trade, Marin and I found that we had conflicting ideas concerning who could control the effects of mountain ash. It’s a magical substance and there is nothing more powerful against werewolves. Even mistletoe cannot stop a wolf in his or her tracks like mountain ash can.”

Isaac could remember the time he’d accidentally swallowed a mistletoe berry when he was six and he’d thrown up three nights in a row. The plant had never been good to him even before it was poisonous. So being told mountain ash was worse brought out a wary side in Isaac.

“’But Marin, only people with knowledge of it can truly control mountain ash,’ I said,” Deaton continued. Isaac couldn’t really see where this was going but he stayed silent anyway. Dr Alan Deaton wasn’t a man for timewasting anecdotes. “’Oh Alan,’ she said, ‘surely anybody with the knowledge of the supernatural can learn to control it!’”

Deaton smiled a little as he reminisced but he shook the smile off his face.

“Alas, I still don’t know who was right,” he said. “But the fact remains, she was fascinated by the idea that non emissaries could be taught to control magical substances. Most emissaries are druids, like Marin and I. We have extensive knowledge of a whole variety of supernatural creatures and herbal substances. But mountain ash is a supernatural substance. It’s magical, there’s no denying it.”

Derek’s eyes narrowed. Isaac knew only too well how Derek felt about magic. He did not like it one bit.

“ _Sorbus Scopulina_ is a type of tree that grows primarily in the Rocky Mountains. Mountain ash is the name given to the powder created when the flower of this tree is taken and crushed up. As far as I know, nobody has ever discovered why it works. But it is the most common and most effective protection again werewolves. It doesn’t need to be ingested to work, like mistletoe.”

Deaton sighed. He turned towards Erica and watched her sleep. He seemed to be evaluating her condition in his head while he spoke.

“If Marin discovers that werewolves can be taught how to manipulate and control mountain ash, it will not be good news for anybody. I can form a barrier of it and keep a werewolf out indefinitely. I can use it as poison or as protection or I could even use it as itching powder. I can control who it affects and how it affects them. I could create a barrier that would kill you, Scott, the second you come into contact with it but allow Isaac to pass through it without being affected.”

He turned around to face Scott, Derek and Isaac once again. His face looked grave.

“If Marin can teach Deucalion how to use mountain ash against you,” he said, emphasising every syllable as if it would be life threatening to miss a single word of what was being said. “You will find yourself in an unwinnable war. He will kill you all.”

Derek, Stiles, Scott and Isaac looked from one another. Boyd’s death hung over them like a damp cloth. Nobody wanted something like that to happen again.

“Okay,” Isaac said, “That’s as bad as I thought. How about the Alpha twins? They can, like, combine into one giant _thing_ when they transform. How do they do that?”

“The genetic coding of identical twins is so similar that in transformation, they can combine their DNA and literally fuse together as one being,” Deaton said without missing a beat. “This is extremely rare because a pair of identical twins being turned into werewolves is rare in itself but I know of at least two cases like this. As far as I know, it’s possible for any pair of identical twins to _fuse._ ”

Deaton didn’t look to be preparing to elaborate on the explanation. Apparently, he didn’t see the fact that a pair of teenage twins could fuse into a three metre tall super wolf as that important. But then, he wasn’t the one who had to fight them.

Dr Deaton looked Isaac over as if he was waiting for something. Isaac knew what it was; the inevitable ‘pissing’ question. Why had Deucalion felt the need to piss on him? Was it a territorial thing or was he just trying to add insult to injury?

Isaac shivered uncomfortably. He didn’t want to ask anything. But he wanted to get the answer. But he didn’t want to ask anything. It was just too embarrassing having to acknowledge the fact that he’d been helpless and defenceless and covered in urine. It wasn’t a nice thing to draw attention to.

Isaac felt something squeeze his hand and he looked down; Scott was still gripping his fingers tightly. He looked up again and met Scott’s eye. Scott smiled reassuringly at him. In the end, Isaac didn’t need to ask the question.

“When I found Isaac, you know the state he was in,” Scott said to Deaton. “Why did Deucalion do that to him? You and Derek have had ideas about it but do you know why yet?”

Deaton breathed out heavily. It wasn’t a sigh; it was just the tired breath of a tired man. He looked at Isaac when he spoke.

“I believed that Deucalion did that to inflict as much humiliation onto you as he could. Derek however believes that he was marking you for something. Tell me, Isaac, did Deucalion mention anything about joining his pack?”

Isaac nodded and looked at Derek apologetically.

“He said that I could join him,” he said. “He told me that I could join his pack if I killed Derek and took his Alpha powers. He said that Scott has potential and that he and I could both be Alphas and join them. I said no. I think that’s what made him angry.”

Derek smiled at Isaac in a rare gesture of warmth. These rare gestures were getting less and less rare by the day. Maybe he was getting laid. Deaton however, looked stern.

“In that case, Derek is correct: Deucalion has marked you as his property,” he said. “A dog urinates on a tree to mark his territory and spread his scent. He does this to warn other dogs to stay away. I think that Deucalion has marked you to warn Derek that he’ll be coming for you. Essentially, he is declaring war on Derek and his pack.”

From somewhere, Peter appeared. He gulped theatrically and drew a nervous chuckle from everybody except for Deaton and Derek.

“By marking Isaac,” Derek said, “Deucalion’s saying that he belongs to him. He sees you as property; a prize pretty much. And if he wants Scott too, he’ll get Scott too. He wants you and he’ll kill me and Deaton and everybody else to get you, the guy is ruthless. Deucalion won’t stop until you two are his.”

“Dead or alive,” Peter added.

“Exactly,” Deaton said.

-

They held a nice little memorial for Boyd. Everybody got up and said something and everyone ate and cried and laughed and remembered him. Jackson and Lydia arrived at one point and a little later on, Peter made a run to the store and came back with an abundance of vodka and potato chips and a few fireworks.

Alcohol doesn’t affect werewolves much. Unless they pour it directly into their bloodstream, their stomachs break it down far too quickly for them to get drunk. However, a room full of sober, sombre werewolves can be immediately brightened up by a drunken Stiles Stilinski.

By nightfall, Stiles was stumbling around the room telling jokes and picking arguments that he would have won asleep let alone drunk. Apparently, vodka brought out his sassy side. Even the now awake Erica saw the funny side of him once or twice.

It was an impromptu wake for Vernon Boyd III but it was one that everyone enjoyed. Boyd had never been close to many of them but his death had brought them together and surely it could only make them stronger.

Peter and Derek carried the makeshift coffin carrying Boyd’s body out into the night in the early hours of the morning. They took the fireworks with them.

About half an hour after they left, a firework was sent up into the sky from somewhere in the woods. Derek and Peter were setting them off from Boyd’s graveside in one last memorial.

Isaac found himself gravitated to Scott for the whole night. The two sat close together and spoke to each other and everyone else. Isaac couldn’t help but feel like they were acting like a proper couple, an actual couple.

Deaton left with Erica at around 2am. He said that she was to remain under his care and she could stay with him at the vet’s office. There was a hidden room at the back of the clinic specifically for werewolves stopping over for the night. Isaac thought it was incredibly bad-ass.

Stiles passed out not long after and Isaac carried him to the tiny study room that Derek moved a bed into for Scott once Jackson had claimed the spare room. Scott and Isaac both knew where they were sleeping that night and it didn’t involve a single bed in a study room.

When Isaac came back, Peter had left and Derek had gone to bed. He sat back down next to Scott and looked over at Jackson and Lydia.

“How’re you doing, man?” Jackson asked. “It’s great to see you up and about. I came to see you in the vet’s a few times but you were seriously out of it. Except that one time you woke up and started saying how you love McCall and you want to ride that like a pony.”

If it’s possible to go as pale as a sheet and then as red as blood in the space of a second, Isaac did it then. He moved his lips and tried to form words but all that came out was incoherent babbling. Scott laughed and ran his hand up Isaac’s leg tauntingly.

“I’m kidding, Isaac,” Jackson said joining in with Scott’s laughter.

Isaac’s face reverted back to normal and he smiled in spite of his embarrassment.

“To be fair, Jackson,” Isaac said, looking over at his newfound friend. “I would love to ride that like a pony.”

It was Isaac’s turn to laugh and Scott and Jackson’s turn to have the smile wiped off of their faces. But then Jackson laughed again; evidently, he thought that Isaac was joking.

Isaac lifted a finger to Scott’s chin and guided his head around to face him. He launched an attack on Scott’s lips with a melodramatically loud kiss. Scott gave back as good as he got and through the moaning and gasping and “oh Scott”-ing, Isaac heard Jackson give a short chuckle and Lydia gasp.

They broke apart and Scott looked breathless and puppy eyed.

“Come on babe,” Isaac said, standing up and taking Scott by the hand. “I’m gonna ride you like a pony.”

Isaac’s tiredness had been successfully fought for the entirety of the night but it had returned with a vengeance at the thought of going to bed. Admittedly, riding Scott like a pony was off the cards, but they were happy to cuddle in together and settle for sleeping in each other’s arms.

Despite his tiredness, Isaac fell asleep after Scott did. He lay in his sleeping boyfriend’s arms and listened to Scott’s breathing slowing. And then he drifted off into sleep himself, his heartbeat and Scott’s heartbeat _tap tap tap_ ping in unison.

Had Isaac lasted a few more minutes, he would have heard Jackson and Lydia talking about them.

“What about Allison?” Lydia asked.

“Who gives a fuck about Allison?” Jackson answered the question with a rather blunt question of his own.

“I do,” Lydia responded. “She’s my best friend. If she finds out she’ll be devastated.”

“I don’t care,” Jackson said curtly, “Isaac’s a good guy and it’s great to see him happy. Don’t get involved Lydia.”

Isaac’s bedroom had a thick window ledge on the outside. It was thick enough for Isaac to crawl out onto when he needed to think and rest his legs over the side.

And had Isaac lasted a few more minutes, he may also have noticed the pair of eyes that watched him and Scott sleep from it through the crack between his drapes.

 


	12. Fucking and Flying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You smell like sweat and come,” were Derek’s exact words when he entered the living room. Jackson grinned and Stiles snorted.   
> “I detect a hint of desperation too,” Peter quipped.
> 
> Silent, unmoving, intent; she had a determined look upon her face. Her long dark hair fell past her shoulders and blew in the breeze. She dressed in black, as black as her soul must have been. Her look was pure evil, her smell conflictingly sweet. She looked down at him and said his name. And then, he said hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that it's taken me almost two months to update! I've been so busy with college (holy moly nobody warned me about this workload), I've started working part time and between sleeping and eating, I have about enough spare time to cry about how difficult my schedule is. But anyway, I hope this chapter is worth the wait and I promise you won't have to wait as long for Chapter 13. Although, I'm afraid my updates won't be nearly as frequent as they had been. Happy reading!

For seventeen hours straight, Isaac slept a deep and dreamless sleep. He woke the next morning feeling fairly refreshed for somebody who’d resisted the advice of the closest thing to a medical professional that he had. When he opened his eyes, he was still curled into Scott’s body.

“Good evening,” Scott smiled. He didn’t look even slightly tired or groggy; he must have been awake for a while.

“Hey,” Isaac replied. His voice was husky and slow. Scott’s soft smile widened a little.

“You’ve been out for ages,” Scott said. Isaac realized that he’d been lying on Scott’s arm when Scott tried to pull it out from under him. The still sleepy werewolf lifted his body a little so that his boyfriend – it would take some getting used to referring to Scott as his boyfriend – could have his arm back. “I lost all feeling in that arm about six hours ago.”

Isaac felt a tiny pang of guilt but then it disappeared as the realization struck that he had the best night’s sleep since like forever lying on top of that arm. He grinned at Scott.

“Sorry about that,” Isaac laughed, leaning in to kiss his boyfriend lightly on the nose. His efforts were met with a smile. “But you could have pulled it away at any time.”

“I didn’t want to wake you, Lahey,” Scott said a little sheepishly, “I was enjoying watching you sleep if I’m honest.”

“You watched me sleep for _six_ hours?” Isaac asked incredulously. If anybody else had watched him sleep for six hours, he would’ve freaked out but there was something so placid in Scott’s expression, so utterly lovingly neutral that it just made Isaac’s heart swell up.

Scott nodded and sat up with a smile. He stretched upwards and outwards and let out a great half-yawn, half-sigh.

The bed sheets covering Scott’s body rode down while he stayed in his sitting position and Isaac’s eyes crept down his back. Both sides of Scott’s spinal column hosted a mess of muscles and indents, and Isaac couldn’t pull his gaze away from them. He wanted to reach out and feel but his hands were preoccupied hiding his morning – or late afternoon – wood.

As his eyes raked the surface of his boyfriend’s back and took in every crevice, every mole, every curve, Isaac sighed. He was content; he didn’t want to get up and join whoever else was in the apartment.

As if sensing his thoughts, Scott flipped over and rolled on top of Isaac. Isaac realized that he wasn’t the only person in the room with an erection.

They shared a kiss and Isaac felt Scott’s hands drift downwards to grip his naked waist. While his boyfriend’s hands were moving downwards, his own moved upwards to rest on Scott’s pectorals.

“So Isaac,” Scott said, his voice raw. Isaac felt a stirring in his already hard cock. “How do you feel about riding me like a pony?”

Isaac laughed and groaned at the same time. He looked up into Scott’s face and masked the lopsided grin that he saw. Scott’s face was a masterpiece. _If there is a God,_ Isaac thought, _he’s outdone himself with this one._

Scott’s jaw was slightly off-centre and there was a mole a little above the bone. Creases of stress were imprinted along his skin and the first signs of age related wrinkles were appearing on his forehead. But Isaac knew that these imperfections were what made Scott perfect. There was nowhere in the world that he’d rather have been than underneath Scott in that instant – or any instant for that matter.

“I love you.”

He didn’t mean to say it, it just kind of happened. You know, one of those moments when your speech is utterly detached from the part of your brain that makes conscious decisions. _Fuck._

To Isaac, it felt like the whole world had stopped. His boyfriend’s face dropped into a blank slate with a hint of surprise. _Even when he looks plain,_ Isaac thought, _he’s fucking hot._

The two of them remained motionless for seconds that stretched out to feel like hours. Isaac would have bolted in panic and regret if he hadn’t been pinned down to the bed.

“You… you what?”

“I…” _In for a penny, in for a pound,_ “I said, I love you.”

For a split second, Scott looked shocked still. But then his face lit up into the most lovingly gormless grin that anybody could ever produce. It was a grin that could have melted butter – or coal, or diamond or steel. It was a grin that reduced Isaac’s insides to mush and made his heart jump. It was a grin that Isaac knew he could look at for every second of his life and never tire of.

“You love me?” Scott asked. He sounded joyously exasperated, his wide eyed grin confirming it.

“Yes,”  Isaac said and then tumbled into a whirlwind of uncontrolled speech: “I love you and I shouldn’t really because we’ve been together like days and it’s stupid and silly but I can’t help it and I don’t know if you feel the same but if you do then that’s great but if you don’t then that’s okay but can you let me up because I think I’m going to puke and I don’t know why I said all this but I can’t help it I just love you a lot Scott.”

Isaac struggled upwards and tried to shift Scott off of him but the smaller boy was having none of it.

“You love me,” was all he said through his grin before he reached for Isaac’s arms and pushed him back down. Isaac couldn’t move and, in such close quarters, he found that he didn’t particularly want to anymore.

Scott kissed him and the butterflies in his stomach all beat at once and then died. He felt nothing, only Scott. The kiss was intense. Not in the head-thrashing and hands a rubbing sitcom-esque sort of way but in the deep loving embracing way of a newlywed couple contemplating the rest of their lives.

“I don’t know much about love,” Scott murmured, breaking the kiss. Isaac was torn between yearning for his lips and wanting to know what he had to say. Scott paused a minute and looked – really, really looked – at Isaac.

Isaac felt like he was being looked at in the way that he’d looked at his boyfriend seconds previously. Attentive and fondly, as if trying to commit every pore and wrinkle to memory. He was content to stay under that loving scrutiny but Scott spoke again.

“I know I love you too, though.”

-

Isaac didn’t want to shower. He smelled of sweat and Scott and it was the sweetest smell he’d ever smelt. He smelled of semen and spit and raw passion and he even smelled a little of contentedness. Scott had gone away to wash but Isaac didn’t want to. He liked the smell. He liked smelling of Scott. He liked being the only person who could smell the smell that stuck to him like cologne.

Of course, he totally forgot that in a household of werewolves, he’s not the only person who can smell it.

“You smell like sweat and come,” were Derek’s exact words when he entered the living room. Jackson grinned and Stiles snorted.

“I detect a hint of desperation too,” Peter quipped.

Isaac laughed. Not a genuine laugh, it was more of a bark of annoyance.

“As if you can comment, Peter,” he said, glaring. “I imagine the last time you used your cock for anything other than pissing, I was in diapers.”  Derek, Stiles and Jackson all laughed aloud. “And touching yourself doesn’t count,” he added, his grin contrasting with Peter’s raised eyebrows and frown.

“Well, would you look at that,” Peter said. “The wolf pup gets it once and thinks he’s Joey Tribbiani.”

“Wow,” Isaac countered. “A reference to a show made in the last 20 years? I didn’t know you had spare time between crying and jerking off to watch TV.”

“I have plenty of time between crying and jerking off to hear about you getting beaten up and pissed on by someone who’ll be elderly before you’ll be legal to drink.”

The sudden heat in Isaac’s cheeks told everyone in the room that Peter won the argument. He sat back in his armchair satisfied while Isaac seethed.

“Get out,” Derek growled. Peter might have been a top class snake but he was still only a beta and he did what Derek told him to do without question.

“Come to think of it,” he said as he strolled to the door of the apartment. “I can actually still smell a bit of his piss on you. Or maybe you just weren’t good enough for your boyfriend and he had to fake it.”

With that he was gone and Isaac was fuming. Luckily, before he broke something out of sheer anger, Scott entered the room in a pair of sweatpants. His glistening torso was enough to distract Isaac from Hulk-smashing everything in sight.

“Hey,” he offered weakly.

“What’s up, I?” Scott asked, coming over and draping an arm around Isaac’s shoulders and looking up a little to his boyfriend.

“Peter,” Derek said before Isaac could mutter a pathetic ‘nothing’. “My dear uncle has been winding him up again.”

“I have enough money to get the locks changed?” Scott asked, half-serious.

“He has a thing for climbing the window ledges outside. He’d still come in. I can afford it myself, Scott. That’s the only reason I haven’t done it.”

“How can you afford it yourself though?” Stiles asked. “This place must be expensive and you work in a mall right? How can you afford anything?”

“Family,” Derek grunted.

“I don’t get it,” said Stiles, confused.

“My family were rich and now they are dead. It’s pretty simple actually.”

“Oh man, I’m so sorry.”

“Shut up, Stiles.”

“Okay.”

Scott and Isaac looked at each other awkwardly. Getting out of bed that morning had been a mistake, Isaac couldn’t help thinking.

Jackson stood up and moved to embrace Isaac but he pulled away just before they made contact with each other. Jackson’s face screwed up.

“Dude, if I wanted to smell Scott’s cock, I’d be screwing him myself,” he said and Isaac couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t listen to Peter, yeah? The guy is a twat.”

“I know, man, I know,” Isaac said.

“I was going to ask you to help me pack,” Jackson said. “But I don’t know if I can handle that smell.”

Isaac hit him on the arm. _What does he mean ‘pack?_ Isaac stood confused until Scott spoke.

“It’s tomorrow you go right?”

Between getting a serious beat down, Boyd’s death and Scott’s general existence, Isaac had totally forgotten that Jackson was leaving so soon. _Tomorrow,_ he thought. _Shit._

“I’ll help you pack if you promise not to make fun of me,” Isaac said.

“I’m not promising anything.”

-

It turned out Jackson was almost fully packed. When they got into his room, he bolted the door and pushed Isaac onto the bed and knelt in front of him.

“Okay, so if you tell anybody I’m telling you this then I swear, I will never talk to you again,” Jackson said to a clearly baffled Isaac. “Allison has it out for you. I heard Lydia talking to her on the phone. Do not trust Lydia. With anything, okay? I mean it. Stay away from her as much as you can. Stay away from Allison completely. Nothing good can come out of you being near them for longer than is completely necessary.”

Isaac was shocked. He knew Allison hated him but he didn’t think she’d actually try something. Not when he was with Scott. Or maybe, that was why she was going to try something. He was going to say something but Jackson spoke first.

“She’s going to try to get you away from Scott… permanently.”

“That’s ominous.”

“It isn’t a joke, Isaac,” Jackson said, the most serious Isaac had ever seen him. “The way I hear it, she went total psycho when I was full blooded Godzilla. Be fucking careful.”

Jackson _never_ spoke about the Kanima; he couldn’t remember any of it. But Isaac could remember. He could remember the hatred Allison looked at them all with. He remembered how scared he was, even when Scott was at his side. Most of all, he remember the feeling of the arrow shaft burying itself in his sternum. He nodded.

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked.

“Are you serious?” Jackson sounded frustrated.  “It’s because I care about you, you twat. I don’t want you to get hurt and I can’t be here to keep an eye on you.”

“Scott will be here. He’ll keep me safe when I can’t do it myself.”

“Not if she’s going after him too. Allison’s dad is a hunter. Allison’s grandfather is – or was – a hunter. So were her mom and aunt. There are a lot of people who could have taught her how to kill werewolves. Stay away from her.”

Isaac nodded again. He pulled Jackson into an embrace. He held him there until he heard Jackson retching. He pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” Isaac asked.

“I have a heightened sense of smell and you stink of a used rubber washed in sweat,” Jackson responded. “Dude; take a shower.”

Isaac laughed.

-

Isaac went with Derek to take Jackson to the airport. Jackson had sold his Porsche to fund a new Jaguar over in England. The two of them sat in the back of Derek’s Camaro with a suitcase between them. Another suitcase sat on the front seat and there were another three in the trunk of the car.

Isaac could have filled one of those suitcases with every piece of clothing he owned and all of his other possessions wouldn’t have even half-filled another. He couldn’t help but feel a little envious.

After his mom and brother died, Isaac’s father had been relatively well off thanks to the life insurance policy that he’d taken out when he’d been working in some big company. But that money had gone quickly. Most of it went on whiskey to numb his pain and some of it on ways to create more for his son.

Isaac had never had many flashy clothes. His father bought what was necessary and nothing more. And then when Isaac started working himself, his father had taken his wages. But Jackson was kinder.

Although Isaac was taller, he was skinnier. It turned out the two of them dressed in the same size on both torso and legs. Jackson literally forced Isaac into taking about five pairs of almost brand new jeans, ten or so tops and a leather jacket that still had the price tag on it.

“Thanks,” Isaac had said in disbelief.

“Don’t mention it,” Jackson had said. But if I come back in a year and they smell like you did after getting out of bed with Scott, I swear I will destroy you.”

Isaac had laughed at that. But in Derek’s car, leading up to the airport, it didn’t seem so funny. He didn’t want Jackson to go.

“Are you still moping about me leaving?” Jackson asked.

“No,” Isaac said, his sulk so prominent that people in passing cars could probably have read his feelings.

“God, you’re worse than Lydia,” Jackson half-sighed, half-laughed. “She’s my girlfriend and all I got from her was a few tears and a ‘bring me back something expensive’.”

Isaac said nothing so Jackson nudged him in the side until he looked over.

“Cheer up man,” Jackson said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was my D you wanted and not your cute little co-captain.”

Isaac gave him a look with as much _‘You are an idiot’_ put into it as he possibly could. Jackson smirked and lifted a finger to Isaac’s cheek and ran it down to his lips. When Isaac looked over, he licked his lips and spoke again.

“You know, Lahey, you could have my D any time you wanted. Just ask. I could give you a better ride than Scott ever could.”

This time, Isaac didn’t bother giving Jackson a look. He used words.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m a sexy idiot.”

Isaac rolled his eyes.

“I’ll give you that,” he said.

“I knew you had the hots for me, babe,” Jackson laughed.

“Shut up,” Isaac said.

They joked around for half an hour or so but as the airport drew nearer, solemn silence fell on the car. Jackson did his best to break it but to no avail.

They were only an hour or so away from the airport when it happened.

Derek was humming quietly along to some song on the radio. Jackson was fiddling around on his phone. Isaac was staring out of the window at the passing trees on the country road that Derek swore was a shortcut and then, he saw her. It was only for a split second; she was there between two trees and then she was gone. But Isaac knew he hadn’t imagined it.

“Derek,” Isaac began. “Put your foot down, I just saw-“

And then the car flipped. It was like they’d gone over one of those thin ramps designed for one wheel that daredevils use in their crazy stunts. Only this was no stunt. And they weren’t going to land wheels down.

The world was a blur for a moment and then there was nothing but the impact. Well, nothing but the impact and the pain. It was so intense, like nothing he’d ever felt before in his life. He must have broken both of his legs, one of his arms and at least five of his ribs. Judging by Derek and Jacksons howls, he wasn’t the only one with injuries.

Isaac blacked out.

-

When he woke, he was lying on the old tarmac road looking up at the stars. Derek was beside him within touching distance. Jackson was a little further away on the other side of Derek. And there above him, she stood.

Silent, unmoving, intent; she had a determined look upon her face. Her long dark hair fell past her shoulders and blew in the breeze. She dressed in black, as black as her soul must have been. Her look was pure evil, her smell conflictingly sweet. She looked down at him and said his name. And then, he said hers.

“Kali.”

She smiled at his acknowledgement.

“Hello,” was all she said.

Beside him, Derek stirred. He was healing much faster than he himself was. Isaac was still in a lot of pain. But Kali stood close to an unconscious Jackson, her exposed toenails almost brushing his face. Derek could do no more than Isaac could.

“What do you want?” Derek asked coldly. 

“My business is not with you,” she said pleasantly, “My business is with the boy.” She looked down at Isaac. “I come with a message. But before I deliver it, I think it’s only fair to say if any of you move, I will kill you before you can stand. Duke may want you, kid, but I don’t, and I will tear you apart.”

She smiled a sickly smile and lifted a foot. She used it to turn Jackson’s head, this way and that.

“Oh dear, he is out cold,” she observed with a chuckle. “He’ll wake up with a nasty concussion. I hope he doesn’t mean to fly today.”

That was when it struck Isaac that Kali knew where they were headed, where they would be and who would be there. But how?

“Here’s the message. Isaac, Deucalion sends his regards. He wants you to join us. And your little boyfriend. Scott, he says, has potential. Blah-blah-blah, whatever. Join us or die etcetera, etcetera. Oh, and if by chance, you say ‘no’, you will not be killed. But everybody that you have ever loved will be. You and your boyfriend may not enjoy life as a couple when his mother and all of your friends, schoolmates and teachers are dying painful deaths.”

She let her words hang on the air and sink in before she continued.

“You have seven days to make your decision. Go home, tell the McCall boy, ask your friends if you like, we don’t care. On the seventh night, be in the auditorium of your school before midnight to join us. If not, you will watch everyone that you have ever met, die. That’s the message. Decide wisely.”

“You made me have a near fatal crash to tell him that?” Derek spat. “Couldn’t you have emailed him like a normal person?”

Kali regarded him like a lion would regard an ant.

“Deucalion and I believe that the message needed to really sink in,” she said; Isaac could hear rage building in her voice. This was a woman who did not like to be spoken to with the slightest hint of hostility.

“By that, you mean Deucalion believes,” Derek said. He tried to laugh but his lungs wouldn’t allow it. He was badly injured for the moment.

“Be there, kid. If you know what’s good for you. Now I have a little message of my own.”

Isaac felt fear shoot through his body. He knew he was about to get another beating and he knew that Derek would step in and he knew that Derek would be killed for it. He closed his eyes in anticipation of the first blow.

The blow never came. He opened his eyes to see Kali standing in the same position, a single eyebrow raised.

“Aiden and Ethan are my friends. I hold myself responsible for them. I’m the closest thing to family that they have. And you hurt them,” Kali said, not unkindly.

“In my defence,” Isaac grunted through the pain, “They were trying to kill me.”

“Deucalion would never have let them kill you, boy. Or your little boyfriend. This one however” – she gestured to Jackson – “would have been allowed to die.”

“Well then, I can’t say I’m sorry,” Isaac said. His words sounded braver than he felt. “Isn’t loyalty a trait you look for in possible recruits for your psycho alpha pack? Why do you want me anyway, I’m not an Alpha.”

“Deucalion made that clear.” She looked at Derek.

Derek barked a short laugh.

“Yeah, he said,” he said, “Sorry he didn’t kill me. Hate to spoil the party.”

“I could kill you now with a finger if I wanted to, Hale,” Kali said, the rage in her voice now clearly audible.

“More like a toe,” Derek said. “Those things look ferocious.”

“Oh, they are,” Kali said; her voice was dangerously calm by this point. “I could show you if you like.”

Faster than anyone could possibly have moved, she was over Jackson and between Derek and Isaac. She poked a toe into Derek’s face and pulled it back, blood dripping from the end of her nail.

“Talk to me out of turn again,” Kali said curtly, “And I will kill you.”

She turned to walk away, her toenail dripping a trail of blood behind her. She moved slowly as if savouring the moment.

“I thought you had a message!” Derek called after her.

She turned and smiled the most bittersweet smile that Isaac had ever seen.

“I thought that the blood on my toe would be message enough.”

She turned and was gone.

Isaac didn’t see much of a message in the blood she’d drawn from Derek’s face but he didn’t have time to worry about that.

“Are you okay?” he asked Derek.

“I’m fine; it’s only a little blood.”

“Where did she get you?”

“Here.” Derek lifted a finger to indicate the point of impact – a point of impact that was worryingly devoid of blood.

“You’re not bleeding, Derek,” Isaac said.

“What do you mean I’m not bleeding?” Derek asked, both angry and confused. “Where else could she have gotten the blood from?”

Isaac tried to answer but a feeling of immense dread swept over him and he became tongue tied. He lifted his head to see over Derek and look at Jackson.

Jackson lay on the tarmac in an Armani tee shit and a pair of dark jeans that Isaac couldn’t put a brand to. His eyes had opened and they looked up to the sky. Unseeing eyes, of course, due to the toenail-width gash that crossed his throat from ear to ear.

Werewolf healing only went so far. 


	13. The Play-Park and the Lakehouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...It should have been you that I watched die."
> 
>  
> 
> “I love you,” Scott said.
> 
> “I love you too,” Isaac said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long wait that I can only apologize for but, as well as the other things that I complained of in the previous chapter's notes, I've started writing my own novel so that's taking up a fair bit of my spare time. Updates will be whenever I can really. Enjoy!

Isaac rode in the front seat of Scott’s car. Derek had stayed behind to clear up the mess that was Jackson’s body. Isaac didn’t know how he’d do it, and he didn’t want to. The thought of Jackson’s limp, lifeless body was enough to set him off into fits of uncontrollable sobbing.

“Are you gonna be okay, I?” Scott asked, after an hour or so of uncomfortable silence.

“Probably not,” Isaac said truthfully. He’d had his fair share of grief in his life but each time was just as painful as the last. He didn’t want to talk about it; he wasn’t ready to. He changed the subject.

“Where are we going?” he asked. He’d been staring out of the window for most of the journey and he hadn’t recognized a single road for well over half an hour.

“My mom has a lakehouse by the Oregon border. We’re going there for a few days,” Scott said with a sideward glance.

Isaac managed a feeble smile despite his situation. Even with Jackson’s murder, Scott was thinking of him. It made him feel a little better that he was there.

“I thought it would do you some good; getting out of town for a few days,” Scott continued with a shrug. “I packed a few things for us before I came and got you.”

“Just us?” Isaac asked hopefully. He didn’t want company. Scott was the only person that he could bear to be with.

“Just us.”

Isaac smiled.

“That sounds good,” he said, and the trip fell back into silence. This silence was much more comfortable than the one that preceded it.

The journey was long and Scott tried to pass it quicker with jokes and childhood anecdotes. There was one about a cake, a candle, a nose, and a trip to the emergency room on Scott’s mother’s birthday that kept them amused for a while. But with the end of every story came the memories. Jackson, Kali, the blood, the fear; it all came back to him.

At one point, an hour or so away from the Oregon border, as darkness began to fall, Isaac broke down. Scott pulled into a conveniently placed truck stop and got out of the car.

He walked around the vehicle and pulled the passenger door open. He slid one arm behind Isaac’s back and one behind his knees and lifted him, bridal style, out of the car.

The air was cooler in this part of the state. Human Isaac would have been shivering with such a drop in temperature. Werewolf Isaac _was_ shivering, but that was due to the violence of his crying. The tears didn’t seem to want to stop.

“Even when you cry, you’re hot,” Scott said with the air of somebody who hadn’t meant to meant to speak aloud. He went red.

Isaac squeaked in his arms, a sound that should have been a laugh but it got caught in his throat.

Scott seemed to not know what to do with him. It took a second for Isaac to realize that there was nowhere for Scott to put him down. He waited for a chuckle to rise up his throat but, once again, it was lost. He slid out of Scott’s arms.

As soon as his feet touched tarmac, Scott was steadying him.

“Are you sure you can stand?” Scott asked, concern evident in his tone.

Isaac nodded but Scott left a calming hand on his shoulder anyway. Isaac pulled him forward into a tight embrace. He felt a hand on the small of his back and the other running through the curls of his hair, cradling his head. He nuzzled into Scott’s neck and felt his tears fall.

“Ssh, ssh,” Scott whispered comfortingly and affectionately. Isaac whimpered. His wolf strained to get at Scott but Isaac suppressed the desire that didn’t feel entirely his.

Somewhere between the crying and the hugging, Isaac blacked out.

-

_It was dark in the play-park. Isaac sat alone on a bench. He tried to move, to stand, but found that he couldn’t. It was as if he was restrained; bound to the metal by unseen ropes. Three figures approached him from the other side of the swings. He couldn’t make out their faces but he knew them instantly. Jackson stood with his hands in his pockets. Isaac sensed that he was smiling. Camden stood beside him. He was distant like a stranger, but Isaac still knew him. He, like Jackson, had hands in pockets. Unlike Jackson, he was hunched over as if he didn’t want to be there. And there, to the left of Camden, she stood. It had been years since he’d looked upon her face. When she smiled, he felt it all over his body._

_“Isaac,” she said. “Hello, my love.”_

_“Mom.” His voice was choked. He missed her so much. Somewhere in his mind, he recognized that this was a dream. He ignored the mental voice. “I miss you.”_

_“I never left,” she said. She moved close enough for him to see her smile. She was happy; content with death as she had been with life. Could this really be her? Some spirit of his long-dead mother? Isaac hoped so._

_“Stay strong, Isaac,” said a male voice. Isaac looked past his mother at Jackson. He felt a pang of guilt. He’d forgotten Jackson was there. “I’m sorry I died.”_

_Isaac laughed despite himself. The blunt cheeriness that he’d said ‘I’m sorry I died’ with was funny to him. Jackson mirrored his laughed. Isaac’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness and he could make out every feature on his friend’s face._

_“I guess it’s okay,” Isaac said. He felt his throat swelling into a lump. He didn’t want to cry. Jackson sensed his feeling._

_“Dude, it’s cool,” he said. He moved forward to stand next to Isaac’s mother. “Death’s more fun than I thought it would be. And I met your mom again. She’s hotter than I remember.”_

_Isaac laughed again. He didn’t feel like crying so much anymore. He looked past his mother and friend._

_“Cam?” he asked tentatively. His brother seemed withdrawn. Even in death, Camden was distant._

_“Yo, bro,” he replied half-heartedly. “How’s life? I wouldn’t know, being dead and all.”_

_It dawned on Isaac that Camden was bitter. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be there, he just didn’t want to be dead._

_“Great,” Isaac half-laughed. “I’m a gay, teenage werewolf who everyone seems to die around. What could be better?”_

_Cam smiled at that. He offered no more words._

_Isaac was going to speak again when the three people in front of him began to change. He started to panic._

_A pair of bullet holes appeared in Camden’s torso. Blood seeped through the wound and into his shirt. A gash appeared at the edge of Jackson’s throat. The wound that killed him spread across his throat. His eyes widened and then faded. He was past hearing anything when Isaac shouted._

_The worst sight was his mother. Her hair receded, her eyes went gaunt, he skin greyed. The illness that killed her acted at super speed until she resembled the old-looking, frail thing that she’d died as. And then, they were gone._

_Isaac wanted to cry, but for once, he couldn’t. He looked to the ground and blinked, trying to bring water to his eyes but he couldn’t. He looked up and three more figures stood in front of him. Kali stood on the left, Deucalion on the right and in the middle stood his father._

_“Isaac,” Kali said. “You’re going to join us.”_

_“Yes,” Deucalion said, sounding almost bored. “Yes, you are.”_

_“And if you don’t…” Kali left her sentence to hang in the air._

_“Well,” Deucalion finished for her. “You’ll see what will happen.”_

_The dissolved into thin air and for the first time since he’d ran out of his home for the final time, Isaac was left alone with his father._

_Automatically, he cowered. Mr Lahey glared at him. The air surrounding them seemed to thicken intensely. It became difficult for Isaac to breathe but his father looked to have no trouble._

_“Isaac,” he said, sending a chill down Isaac’s spine. He recognized the tone. It was the tone of a hunter, cajoling a fox out of its burrow, the tone of a killer asking for final words, the tone of a father preparing to beat the living shit out of a disobedient child._

_Isaac said nothing. He shivered with anticipation and closed his eyes ready for the first blow. It never came._

_“You’ve disappointed me, son,” Mr Lahey said. “The people you associate with are disgusting. Mongrels and fags. And you’re both. A mongrel and a fucking fag. You’re a fucking disgrace.”_

_Isaac squirmed under his father’s glare._

_“Your mother died and your brother died and you were all I had left. Why couldn’t you have been a better son? You embarrassed me and you failed me. It should have been you that I watched die.”_

_Isaac felt throat swell. And then the oddest thing happened. The pressure in his chest was lifted and a wave of warmth surged through him. It gave him courage and the restraints that kept him down were gone. He was on his feet before he thought, words tumbling out uncontrollably._

_“Shut up,” Isaac said, as angry as he was scared. “I never embarrassed you and I never failed. I did everything you ever asked and you beat me relentlessly.”_

_Isaac’s father was taken aback. Isaac pressed on; now he’d started, he couldn’t stop._

_“I’m your son, and you beat me. I’ve spent years terrified of trusting people because of you and I won’t have it any more. You ruined my life for no reason. You’re not my dad, you haven’t been since mom died. You’re just a stupid fucking cunt.”_

_His anger faded at the same speed as his father. More than anything, Isaac just felt drained. Is it even possible to feel tired in a dream? He slumped down against the bench again._

_“Isaac?” His ears pricked. Scott’s voice, Isaac knew that. He looked in front and behind him but Scott was nowhere to be seen. Only when his surroundings began to fade did he realize that Scott’s voice was coming from the real world, outside the dream. Scott was pulling him back to consciousness._

-

“Isaac?” Scott looked and sounded concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Isaac replied. “I just… it was a dream. They were there.”

“Who?” Scott moved a little and Isaac became aware that his boyfriend’s hand was on his bare chest. His shirt had been rolled up.

“Jackson, Cam, my mom. Deucalion, Kali, and my dad,” he said. The dream had felt so vivid. Was it so unreasonable to believe that he’d been visited by spirits in a world where werewolves exist? But Deucalion and Kali were alive. They couldn’t have been spirits. Isaac felt disappointed.

“What happened?” Scott asked.

“I was in a park. They came to me. Jackson, Cam and mom spoke to me. Then I watched them die.” He shook his head to try and disperse the memory. “Then Kali and Deucalion spoke to me. Same shit: ‘join us or die’ kinda thing. And then, him.”

Scott didn’t need clarification of which _him_ Isaac was referring to. The hand that wasn’t resting over Isaac’s heart found his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“What did he say?” Scott’s jaw was locked, as if he was biting back and angry comment.

“You know, mean things.” Isaac didn’t want to relive that part of the conversation. His own input however, was a different matter. “But then the weirdest thing happened.”

Scott nodded, his head tilted, eyebrows raised. “Go on.”

“I felt like I was being tied down while he spoke but then it was like something lifted the pressure” – he lifted his free hand to cover Scott’s – “here. And then I stood up to him.

Isaac grinned and swelled up with pride. Dream or not, he’d stood up to his father. He was happy. Scott looked happy for him.

Scott leant down from his sitting position to plant a firm kiss on Isaac’s lips. Isaac smiled through it.

“Well done, I,” he said. “The pressure, I think that was me. You were shivering and whimpering. I put my hand over your heart to try and take the pain away. I thought you were hurt.” He looked sheepish, as if he thought that Isaac would have been annoyed.

“Thank you,” Isaac whispered. “You made me brave.”

Hearing himself say it, Isaac thought it sounded pathetic. But judging by the look on Scott’s face, his boyfriend disagreed.

“I love you,” Scott said.

“I love you too,” Isaac said.

-

Since waking up after his dream on a sofa bed in the lounge, Isaac had fallen in love with the lakehouse. It was beautiful, he concluded after Scott had toured him. It was a late night tour because of his three hour long blackout but Isaac didn’t mind.

There were five rooms in the lakehouse. The front door opened into the most homely lounge that Isaac had ever seen. It was furnished with greens and browns, like woodlands. French doors opened out onto a veranda that overlooked a sparkling blue lake surrounded almost entirely by a thin forest.

A door on the left of the lounge led into a kitchen/dining area. The room was small but sufficient. A table with three chairs around it was pushed against the far wall. The wall to the left of the entrance was the cooking area. An old fashioned oven and a microwave were surrounded by cupboards and worktops. The wall to the right of the entrance was a giant window.

Back in the lounge, a thick oak staircase in the middle of the room led up to a square of floor surrounded by three doors. The doors to the left and right were bedrooms, the door in the centre, the bathroom.

The bedroom on the left was Melissa’s. Its walls were magnolia, the king-sized bed a deep chestnut brown. The floors were bare and it smelled dusty as if the room had been out of use for years.

“Mom never really comes in here,” Scott explained. “She likes to sleep on the couch and watch the stars and lake. She finds it relaxing, idk why.”

“Did you just say ‘idk’?” Isaac asked grinning.

Scott shot him a sideward glance.

“Shut up,” he said, laughing. He pushed past Isaac into his own room and Isaac followed. He gasped.

Not an inch of Scott’s wall was visible through the wallpaper of posters. The casts of TV shows and movies looked down at them curiously. Bikini clad women straddled motorcycles, and topless men sat upon lawnmowers looking mysterious. Bands played their instruments and pulled funny faces. There were posters advertising videogames and movies and there was even one photograph of their high school’s lacrosse team that had been blown up and glosses so it was a poster.

Scott looked embarrassed.

“It’s a little nerdy,” he muttered. “I forgot how stupid it looks. We can sleep downstairs.”

He turned to move out of the room but Isaac caught his arm. Scott looked up at him with a weird vulnerable expression on his face, like he was expecting Isaac to make fun of him.

“I love it,” Isaac said. Scott’s face lit up. “It’s adorable and it’s you and I love it. You can sleep downstairs if you want, but I’m staying here.”

That night, they slept in Scott’s bed. It was too big to be a single and too small to be a double. They slept with their bodies entwined. Isaac woke in the morning sweating from the heat. It was perfect.

-

“Mmph,” Scott grunted as he entered the kitchen in sweatpants. Isaac took the noise to be Scott’s way of saying _good morning_ while still half-asleep.

“Hey there,” Isaac said, not daring to turn away from the frying pan for even a second. He felt a pair of arms slide around his waist and he smiled at the sizzling bacon in front of him.

Isaac felt Scott nuzzle into his back and then he heard his boyfriend make a distinct sniffing noise. Suddenly, Scott’s head was next to his own.

“Dude, you’re spoiling me,” Scott said lovingly as he craned upwards to plant a kiss on Isaac’s cheek.

“Can you butter the rolls for me, please?” Isaac asked. As much as he enjoyed the feeling of Scott’s warmth, he couldn’t risk getting flustered whilst cooking. Knowing his luck, he’d burn the house down. Scott complied with the request.

They sat down to breakfast together on the veranda instead of in the kitchen. It was a warm morning with a lovely breeze that promised a beautiful day ahead.

Isaac looked out over the lake as he ate his bacon rolls. The ripples in the water twinkled like stars in the night sky and every so often the water would be distorted further by the sharp change in direction of a fish.

The woods surrounding their side of the lake were quiet and peaceful. They held within a darkness that was as ubiquitous as the air that it engulfed. It wasn’t a menacing darkness though, more a calming one. Isaac liked it.

Almost directly opposite Scott’s lakehouse, about a mile away across the water, stood another house. From where Isaac sat, it looked a lot bigger than the one that he was staying in but much less homely. It was almost gothic, a Victorian English style mansion. This house’s pier was at least five times the size of the McCalls’ and it had four boats tied to it, compared to Scott and Melissa’s solitary boat. Scott caught him looking.

“That’s Robb and Julie’s. They have like eight kids but they’re really nice,” Scott explained. “There’re two more houses on the lake. From here, the lake looks like an oval but it’s more of a pear-shape. We’re on the narrow end. On the left, there’s a couple with three kids. The eldest I may or may not have had my first gay experience with.”

Scott grinned and Isaac felt a pathetic pang of jealousy before he realized that it was totally unwarranted. Whoever this guy was, Isaac had almost certainly done more with Scott than he had. Isaac smiled back and let Scott continue.

“The couple are called Chris and… and, um… Mary! That’s it; Mary. Their kids are all really cool. Jon’s our age and he’s incredible at like all sports. I took him on at tennis once and I don’t think I scored a single point in a whole hour.  We made out a few times when we were thirteen but he’s got a girlfriend now and he’ll totally deny it if you bring it up. Daenerys is twelve, I think, and she reads a lot and she’s wicked smart and if you piss her off, she’ll cut you down with insults so hard, like seriously. Trust me; I made the mistake of criticizing Harry Potter once. She made me cry. I was fourteen.”

Isaac laughed. He liked the sound of Daenerys already. Scott went on, a smile on his face as he flitted in and out of nostalgic mode.

“Then their youngest is called Cersei. She’s really quiet but she’s funny when she does speak. She used to pretend that she was a queen and she’d make me, Jon and Dany all pretend to be knights and fight to the death for her own amusement. She’s either eight or nine, can’t remember which.”

Isaac loved the way that Scott spoke of his neighbours with such pride and knowledge. It was as if they were all members of some great extended family. One thing still confused him though.

“Um, Chris and Mary their names are right? They named their kids Jon, Daenerys and Cersei?” he asked.

“They were like massively into the Game of Thrones books in the nineties. They never really grew out of it.” Scott shrugged. “I like it. I’ve seen that show and they all fit their names.”

He’d never actually considered that people named their kids after fictional characters but now that he did, he thought it endearing. How better to choose a name for your offspring than to name them for characters that you love and cherish like family. He wondered if people would judge him for naming his kids after Sam Winchester and Donna Noble. _Although,_ Isaac thought to himself, _Sam and Donna are much more typical names than Cersei and Daenerys._

“What about the other house?” Isaac asked. “Whose is that?”

Scott shrugged.

“Some elderly couple, as far as I know. They seem okay but they keep to themselves.”

They finished eating and Scott took the two plates into the kitchen to wash up. When he came back out, he looked a little excited, like he’d cooked up a master plan and couldn’t wait to share the details.

“Do you want to meet them?” he asked.

“Meet who?” Isaac asked back.

“Who do you think? I’ll go out on the boat and see if any of them are here. They should be, both of them used to stay all summer long. If they are, I’ll invite them over if you fancy it…” Scott let his words linger into a question. He tilted his head a little as if hopeful and Isaac found it downright adorable.

“It sounds good to me,” Isaac said and then laughed when Scott lit up like a child at Christmas. “I’ll go to the store and get some drinks and snacks while you’re gone if you want.”

“Since when can you drive?” Scott asked surprised.

“I can’t… well, not legally anyway. But I am a werewolf and a half hour walk to a normal person is a five minute jog for me, duh.”

Scott laughed.


	14. Author's Note

Forgive me, dear readers. I've had a tough time over the past few months, I had planned to update the next chapter on Christmas Eve. Obviously that didn't happen, because over Christmas my dad had a bit of a health scare and I really didn't feel like writing. I got over that in about March alongside my dad's recovery and I thought I should wait until season 3 completely finished. So I watched and waited. (ACTUAL TEEN WOLF SPOILERS) My plan for this fic was that Peter Hale would be the villain, Allison would die, and Isaac would leave Beacon Hills at the end with Chris Argent to try and reconcile the pack with his family. Considering that two of these things are now canon in the show with Peter Hale looking like he's going to return to villainhood, I just cannot find the motivation to write something that's now going to look like a total rip-off of the show. I'm sorry to have to say this, but taking everything into account, I'm discontinuing this fic. If you're into Game of Thrones and Merlin, then I'd love for you to read my new crossover fic that will be up on here in a few days time. If not, then this is goodbye for now! Thank you ever so much for reading, I don't think you'll ever know how much I appreciate it. Love Jack x


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